The Unpunished
by Marion Hood
Summary: (Sequel to No Good Deed) Dean Winchester knows how dangerous kindness is. Just look where it landed him.
1. Chapter 1

Dean took a step towards her and her head whipped around finally noticing she was trapped. Hermione backed herself into the wall.

"Please..." She begged. "Don't make me hurt you."

"Woah." Dean smirked slightly, taking in her tiny frame and skinny features. "Sweetheart, you're not gonna...holy crap!"

She moved with more speed than he'd been expecting and ducked past him, hooking an arm around his knees as she went. Dean crashed to the floor and she pelted down the corridor, hair streaming behind her. Sam gave chase, Dean picking himself up and following, swearing loudly.

She was fast and she ran out of desperation, not caring when her shoulder clipped a sharp corner, or her hands smacked against the walls. But Sam and Dean chased things for a living and they had the home ground advantage.

Somehow, she made her way back through the maze of corridors to the room they'd been keeping her in. She grabbed her coat and began rifling through the pockets, desperately searching for something. Sam and Dean, weapons out, filled the doorway, blocking her in.

"You looking for this?" Dean asked, dangling the piece of wood from his fingertips. He hadn't known why he'd wanted to keep it with him, just that he did. Whatever it was, it was important as her face, already pale, drained of colour.

"Please..." she whispered.

Dean slipped it back into his pocket and she sagged.

"Now, why don't you sit down and we'll talk about this?" He suggested carefully.

She whimpered, eyes wide.

"I can't stay here." She pleaded. "They'll find me. You're in terrible danger, you've got to let me go!"

"We're always in danger." Sam shifted so his shoulders filled the doorway, allowing Dean to move a bit closer to the woman. "'Sides no one can track you here. So why don't you tell me why you saved my brother?"

She backed into the farthest corner of the room.

"I just...He was nice to me. Please, let..."

"Yeah. I got that." Dean shot a glare at his brother for being a dick. "But _how_ did you save him? Dean said you were up against demons and you didn't even flinch."

Hermione shrugged, eyes shuttering.

"Demons?" She bluffed, evidently hoping that they'd drop the subject.

"Yeah, too late for the innocent act." Dean quipped, taking another step towards her.

Her shoulders slumped again and she pulled her coat against her, hugging it tightly.

"They're just demons." She whispered at last. "Worse things in the world."

They stared at her.

"What?" Dean managed at last. He raised his hand to tug at his hair and she flinched, ducking backwards again. He looked from his hand to her for a second, before he lowered it slowly, looking ashamed.

"How?" Sam pressed. " _How_ did you save him from demons?"

Dean stepped closer to her, watching her carefully for any signs of movement.

"It's just, me and my brother, we ain't used to finding people who just know about the supernatural. So why don't you tell us what you are and..."

"Human." She said, very quickly. "I'm human, I promise."

"Guilty." Sam sang under his breath.

Hermione stepped closer to Dean, still clutching her coat tightly.

"Would you mind if we check?" Dean asked doubtfully. "It's just we hunt monsters and...shit!" He wheezed. Dean hadn't been expecting the kick and it clocked him right in the groin, making his eyes cross. She was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

A fast hand slipped into his pocket and relieved him of the stick as he bent double, gasping. She backed into the corner, sinking into a fighting stance, apparently unconcerned with the gun Sam held on her.

"Dean?" he yelled.

"'m okay." Dean gasped.

Hermione raised her stick.

"Stay back." She ordered, voice authoritative. "Just let me go and no one has to get hurt."

Sam snorted.

"Yeah, I don't think so."

" _Levicorpus_!" She shouted.

Sam's look of surprise would have been funny, if all six feet four inches of him hadn't just been flipped up in the air to hang by his ankles. She ducked under Sam's hair and vanished into the corridor.

"Oh, come on!" Dean left his brother dangling from the ceiling (It wasn't the first time it'd happened) and ran after her, back through the warren of corridors. He caught up with her as she reached the dead end behind the kitchens, keeping his knife at the ready. She slid to a halt, looking desperately for another doorway between her and the hunter.

There wasn't one.

She turned slowly to face him.

" _Protago_." She whispered and a shimmering blue shield spun across the width of the corridor, separating them. Dean watched her in shock. She was still in her socks, coat having been abandoned somewhere in the chase. The exertion should have tired her out at least, but the woman wasn't even breathing hard.

"What the hell are you?" He asked, testing the shield with his finger and getting a dull, electrical buzz for his efforts.

"Leaving." She murmured and spun in a graceful twirl. The surprised look she gave Dean when she opened her eyes told him that whatever she'd expected to happen, hadn't. The blue shield flickered and died.

"Oh no." She whispered, eyeing him worriedly. The was about all she got to say, because Dean took advantage of her shock and pounced, tackling her to the floor. She struggled but he had the physical advantage and he flattened himself out on top of her, smacking her wrist repeatedly off the hard floor until she released the stick.

"You gonna behave?" he barked, somewhat pissed about the abuse to his balls.

There was a resolute, and fairly rebellious, shake of her head, which prompted Dean to roll his eyes and grab the back of her shirt and start dragging. Evidently whatever mojo she'd worked on Sam had worn off at the same time as the shield did, because halfway to the cells he met his little brother who had murder in his eyes.

"Little help here?" He gasped, barely managing to hold onto the struggling woman. Hermione was kicking and clawing for all she was worth, feet scrabbling for purchase on the smooth floors.

"Dude, just knock her out!" Sam yelled, dodging a kick Hermione sent at his legs.

"She's got a head injury!" He protested as she wriggled.

"Never stopped you before." Sam muttered darkly, but he grabbed her ankles anyway. Between the two of them they carried Hermione, who was still wrestling to get free, to the cells. She did managed to slip loose at one point, but only got two feet before Dean grabbed her around the waist and hauled her over his shoulder and just sprinted the rest of the way. They slammed the cell door shut behind her and collapsed onto the floor. Dean was breathing heavily and he leaned back against the wall, Sam watching him warily.

"I swear we've tackled monsters easier than her." He moaned.

There was a loud shriek of fury from behind the iron door, followed by a wave of power so strong several light bulbs shattered.

Sam glared at him.

"You really think she's _not_ a monster?"

Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Guess we'd better hit the books then."

* * *

There was nothing in the books about abused, stick wielding women. Hell, there was nothing about sticks either. Dean knew there was something strange about the piece of wood. When he picked it up he...it sounded insane, but he could swear the stick didn't _want_ to be touched by him. He locked it in the vault and tried not to think about it. Still, she'd been in the cells for four hours now and it _was_ dinner time...

He carried the plate of food in one hand, the other resting on the gun tucked in his waistband. The corridor outside the cells was quiet and empty, aside from the glittering shards of glass. Slowly he unlocked the door, pushing it open.

He spotted her immediately. She was sitting in darkness, browns eyes glinting dangerously. The light reflected off her scar, casting her face in shadows.

"Let me go." She repeated darkly.

Dean pretended to think about it.

"Nah." He dropped the plate onto the floor and toed it towards her. She eyed it with confusion.

"You're feeding me?" Her eyes widened and her mouth snapped shut, as though she'd spoken without intending to.

"Well, yeah." Dean frowned at her. "What kind of an asshole do you think I am?"

He locked the door before she had a chance to respond. There were some questions you didn't want to know the answer to.

* * *

"What are we gonna do with her, Dean?"

He leant his head against the book he was supposed to be reading and sighed, trying to ignore his brother.

"Sam..." he groaned.

The taller Winchester glared at him from across the table.

"No, seriously. We can't keep her locked up forever. Someday she's either going to get out or someone's going to come looking for her."

"Sam..."

"Dean, she's a problem we don't need right now and..."

"SAM!"

Sam's mouth snapped shut as he took in the tense line to his brothers shoulders.

"Just drop it." Dean begged. "Please. I need to sleep, 'k?"

He staggered off to his rooms and resolved not to think about the woman he'd locked up. Or that she'd looked entirely too used to the treatment.

* * *

Dean took her breakfast the next morning. Nothing special, just a few slices of toast and a mug of coffee. She was already awake by the time he got there and Dean sighed when he noticed the slightly congealed plate of food still exactly where he'd left it.

"You gotta eat." He pointed out.

She glared at him resentfully over the tops of her knees and didn't answer. He swapped the breakfast plate for last nights dinner.

"I promise my cooking ain't that bad." He grimaced. "You're human, right? You do eat, like, people food?"

She just stared at him, her eyes looking slightly more dull than they did yesterday. That spark in her eyes which had glowed during her escape attempt had gone out, replaced with dark resignation. He glanced around the dark cell guiltily. The Men of Letters probably hadn't intended the cells to be used for actual _humans_ and while there was a sink and toilet set into one wall, they were the only real features in the room. It looked cold and boring...And now he was feeling sorry for the monster. Dammit.

"Listen...I'll be back in a bit."

He relocked the door and headed to the kitchen to dump her plate in the sink, knowing that if he didn't deal with it properly before lunchtime, Sam would bitch at him. He left it there for now and wandered off to the supply closet.

The whole idea of having a supply closet was new to him. Hell, having a closet was new to him. For the first time in his life he had a room of his own, he had a kitchen he could mess around in and, bizarrely, he could afford to have more stuff than he could carry.

Still, closet...

Carefully, he piled several blankets and a pillow into his arms, before making his way back down to the cells. He'd clicked the light on for her when he brought her breakfast, but she'd broken the bulb with her fit of...whatever, last night. So he knocked on the door to give her some form of warning before he crashed inside. Hermione's breakfast hadn't been touched, but he'd only been gone for ten minutes so he didn't give up hope on that front. She hadn't shifted from her spot either, but her forehead wrinkled in confusion when she saw what he was carrying. Dean coughed in embarrassment, setting the bedding down by the door.

"I figured, it gets pretty cold down here and you don't really have a bed..." He trailed off. She, like Cas, seemed to have the ability to stare him into silence.

"Look," He tried again. "I don't suppose you can tell me what you are?"

Very slowly, she shook her head.

Dean just sighed and left.

* * *

Dean was ashamed it took him almost two days to figure it out. Two days in which, as far as he could tell, she didn't eat a thing and if anything, seemed to be wasting away quietly.

Dinner that night had been burgers, because research was taking its toll and no one could really be bothered cooking. Dean had waited until Sam wasn't looking to cook hers, knowing for certain that this was the one thing she definitely ate.

She'd made a sort of nest out of the blankets in the corner behind the door and that's where Dean would typically find her. It hadn't escaped his notice that the position put her at a tactical advantage. Sam, who had wanted nothing to do with the pair of them, told him that one day she was going to smack him over the head with a plate.

Still, she was exactly where she was supposed to be and showed no signs of moving any time soon. He sighed at the untouched sandwich on the floor and toed it out of the way with his foot.

"It's good food. Might not be as good as the one I bought you but still...edible, I guess." He tempted hopefully. He picked up a fry and munched on it. "See?" Dean took another and _finally_ got a response. Those dark brown eyes followed his hand from the plate to his mouth, forehead crinkling once again. Dean's eyes flicked between her and the food for a full thirty seconds before the penny dropped. His eyes widened and the fry fell to the floor.

"You think I'm trying to drug you?" He demanded loudly.

She flinched and tightened her grip on her knees, hiding her head in her arms.

"Dammit." He cursed. He grabbed the plate and stormed out, slamming the cell door behind him. Sam stared at him as he stalked into the kitchen and began rifling through the cupboards.

"You okay?" He asked doubtfully.

"She thinks I'm drugging her." He spat, piling packages into his arms.

"Who?"

Dean stared at him.

"Hermione."

"Oh."

The older Winchester's eyes narrowed and he looked his brother up and down, over protectiveness boiling over once again.

"How much sleep did you get last night?" He demanded.

Sam immediately began to look guilty, which was probably because Dean had been asking the same question since he was three and he always knew when he was lying.

"Like...four hours? Maybe?"

"Do I have to take care of everyone around here?" He grabbed Sam's laptop with his spare hand, ignoring Sam's protests. "Go to bed." He ordered, stowing the computer.

"Dean, I'm fine." Sam tried to duck past him, but in his exhausted state was far too slow.

"Move it soldier."

Scowling, Sam moved, Dean following him through the bunker until he was sure he'd actually gone to his room and not just to another pile of research. Then he turned on his heel and headed back to the cells.

This time he settled himself on the floor in front of her, holding out a candy bar like it was a Holy Tablet.

"Here."

Her eyes flicked from the chocolate to him and back again.

"I swear, I'm not trying to drug you. Just trust me." He sighed when she didn't move. He didn't expect her to trust him, he _had_ locked her up after she'd saved his life. Still, it stung a bit. "Look...I'll prove it." Heedlessly, he ripped open the wrapper and took a bite, making sure she saw him swallow. He held it out again and one pale, scarred hand tentatively reached out and snatched it away from him. She held it against her chest and watched him tensely until he settled back on his haunches.

"I'm not leaving until you eat." He groaned. "I swear you're as bad as Sam."

Slowly, ever so slowly, she lifted the bar to her lips and took a tiny bite, eyes never leaving his. His lips twitched at the small moan she gave before she took a larger bite and chewed ferociously.

"You must be starving, huh?" Was all he said, before he laid out the spoils of his quest to the kitchen, on the floor. A bag of potato chips, some more candy bars, a packet of cookies and a few snack bags of dried fruit Dean was sure Sam must have snuck out to buy. Several bottles of water, all sealed, completed the line up. Hermione reached out for the water and froze.

Dean made a point of not moving.

"Go for it." He encouraged. He waited until she was safely drinking before he spoke again. "I'm sorry about this." he said at last. "I've never..." He scratched his head, somewhat annoyed with himself. She was just another damn person he couldn't seem to take care of. "I should've realised. I mean, you've been starving yourself for two days because I was too dumb to work it out. So yeah...Sorry."

She screwed the lid back onto the empty bottle and stared at him, relaxing enough to sit cross legged on the floor. The fruit went next but not for one second did she stop staring him. It was a bit like being watched by a stray animal. One sudden movement and she'd be gone again.

He stared at her hand and then at her face, because they were the only bits of her skin he could see and they were both scarred.

"What happened?" He asked bluntly.

She froze.

"To your hand." Dean decided, guessing that a story might be easier to get out of her than a tale. "It's just...it looks nasty."

She held her hand in front of her as though she hadn't see it recently.

"Burn." She said at last and looked at him as though checking that her answer would be acceptable.

He nodded.

"How?"

Hermione drew in a deep breath.

"They thought it would make me talk." She whispered hoarsely, fire dimming in her eyes. "They were right."

Dean stared at her in shock and she went back to eating bits of dried pineapple.

"Who's after you?" He tried at last.

"People." Her eyes drooped for a moment, before they snapped open again.

She wouldn't sleep while he was in the room and judging by the state of her, she really needed to. Dean got to his feet slowly, taking the empty wrappers with him.

"I've gotta go." He smiled at her. "I'll see you in the morning. Any requests for breakfast?"

He must have used up his quota for actual conversation, because she just shook her head and curled up in her blankets again.

"Course not." He muttered and locked the door behind him.

* * *

The next morning Dean woke horribly early and took the Impala to the biggest store he could find. One of the advantages of living in America was the unbelievable variety of pre-packaged food. He picked up as much as he could afford and grabbed Sam a bunch of healthy crap while he was at it. His brother needed all the health he could managed at the moment and if Dean had to buy friggen kale to do it, then so be it.

Evidently Hermione had slept well enough, because she appeared to airing out her blankets when he arrived with breakfast. He heard hurried footsteps from the other side of the door when he knocked and he opened it slowly. All of her blankets were spread out flat on the ground and her pillow looked severely fluffed as though she'd been hitting it off the tiled wall to get the dust out. She herself was standing against the back wall, hands flat on the tiles. Dean gave her a strange look but settled himself down on the floor, making an effort to keep his boots of her blankets.

"Are you cleaning?" He asked gruffly as he set out the food. She shrugged. "Sit down, would you? Kinda weird to have you towering over me."  
She took the suggestion as though it was an order and dropped to the floor immediately. She looked to Dean for permission before she reached out to grab some food. Dean nodded and the banana went first. Sam had suggested that it was pretty hard to poison fruit and that it might be worth a shot. Apparently he hadn't been wrong. Dean looked her over, frowning. Her clothes which had been grubby three days ago, were verging on filthy and although her face and hands were clean, he suspected she must desperately want a shower. He'd have to talk to Sam about that. But clothes he could fix.

"What's that?"

Her question jerked him out of his reverie and he blinked at her. She'd eaten the fruit and drunk the orange juice while he'd been staring and was now pointing at the last piece of food.

"Huh." he grinned slightly. "I guess they don't have pop tarts where you come from. It's just junk food, basically." She took it cautiously and unwrapped it, nibbling at the edges. She gave food the same sort of attention Castiel did, eating slowly and savouring every bite. It made Dean wonder how long she'd been going hungry for.

"So where is it you're from?" He asked casually. So far Sam's internet searches hadn't turned up much, but having a location would probably help.

She folded the wrapper neatly and shook her head.

Dean had half expected that response so he shrugged and carried on regardless.

"I'm going to bring my brother down here and get him to look at the back of your head. I don't think you had a concussion but still, pretty nasty cut." Her hand reached through her hair and she felt the back of her head, frowning.

"Why did you heal me?"

He frowned at the strange word choice.

"You saved my life. Kinda makes us like you." He grinned at her. "But I really don't want you to die in here and getting an infection there is dangerous. Believe me, I'd know."

"Who are you?"

"Dean." He coughed. "Dean Winchester."

She sighed, fiddling with the sleeve of her jumper.

"What do you want from me?" Hermione asked at last.

"Nothing." He blurted. He shuddered as his brain provided hundreds of horrible ideas as to what people might have wanted from her for her to be so scared of him.

"Then let me go!" She pleaded quietly. "Please, they're going to find me and they won't hesitate to kill you to get to me."

He sighed.

"Anyone who comes up against me and Sam is in a for a real surprise. Besides, I can't let you go. You might lead _our_ enemies straight to us. Hell, you might be one of our enemies. We still have no clue what you are."

"I'm nothing." She whispered.

Silently, Dean collected up the rubbish and got to his feet.

"I'll be back with Sam at lunchtime. You want anything?"

She shook her head despondently and didn't look at him.

* * *

"Hey, Hermione?" There was the usual flurry of movement and Dean unlocked the door, Sam trailing behind him. Hermione was standing against the wall again and her bedding had been folded neatly and placed back in the corner. "I brought Sam."

"Hi." Sam waved. "Remember me?"

That didn't get a response so Dean took the lead.

"We need you to turn around so we can look at the back of your head."

She shook slightly and bit her lip.

Sam held up the red first aid kit, by way of explanation and her eyes narrowed.

"I need to make sure it's closed over properly." Sam smiled at her and she shifted slightly further away from him. She looked between them, eyes taking in Sam's giant frame before her gaze rested on Dean.

"Want me to do it?" he offered.

She nodded, still eyeing Sam cautiously. This probably would have continued for minutes if one of Sam's coughing fits hadn't caught up with him and he doubled over. Dean rushed to help and Hermione stared at the pair of them, occasionally looking towards the cell door.

"You all right, Sammy?"

Sam nodded waving his brother away.

"I'm fine." He wiped his hands on his jeans, ignoring the red smear they left behind. "Look, I'm just gonna go. You're okay?" the "with her" went unspoken but Dean picked it up anyway.

"I'll be fine. Go...breathe or something."

Sam shuffled out, still rubbing at his chest and Hermione watched him go with curious eyes, wincing when he pulled the door closed behind him.

"Is he okay?" She asked, apparently sincere.

Dean shrugged.

"Nah. He'll get through it though. You gonna turn around?"

She did so and he combed his fingers through her hair, trying to get a good look at the cut. It had healed well enough that he wasn't worried about it.

"You'll be fine. You gotta headache?"

Hermione shrugged, turning back to face him. She crossed her arms over her stomach and stepped back, away from him. Dean grabbed the first aid kit and turned to leave.

"Oh, crap. I almost forgot." He handed over the bundle of clothes he'd left at the door. "I figured you'd want something else to wear and we...uh..." He coughed, embarrassed. "We don't have any girl clothes so...uh...yeah."

She accepted the t-shirt with the same confusion that had greeted the blankets and nodded.

"Dean!" Sam's yelled echoed through the bunker. "Come here!"

Dean grimaced and left, making sure he locked the door behind him.

"What, Sammy?" He snapped when he reached his brother. Sam was sitting on the sofa, Hermione's coat resting on his lap.

"I wanted to see if she had anything her pockets." He held up the coat. "And, well..." Sam slipped his hand into the pocket and Dean's eyebrows rose as he managed to fit his entire arm into a space which shouldn't have held much more than a wallet.

"What the hell?"

"I dunno..." Sam pulled his hand out. "But, I've been thinking. She's messing with dimensions and she's got all these powers. What if she's a trickster?"

Dean frowned.

"I dunno. Maybe...She doesn't look like a trickster. Shouldn't she be able to escape anyway?"

"Maybe the Men of Letters worked out how to trap them." Sam shrugged. "There's a lot of things we don't know about this place."

Dean groaned.

"How you doing, man?" He asked instead.

"I'm fine." Sam scowled when his brother just glared at him. "I'm _fine_." He repeated.

"Whatever. I think we need to call in Cas." Dean sighed, reaching for his phone. "Celestial knowledge, right?"

Sam shrugged listlessly.

"Isn't he running for his life right now?"

Dean ignored that and dialled the number.

"This is important."

* * *

Castiel _was_ running for his life, as it turned out. Flickering from Biggersons to Biggersons or so he told Dean, somewhat irritably.

"Listen man. I could really use your help." Dean rubbed a thoughtful thumb over what Sam assured him were angel wardings. Although he had no idea how the Men of Letters had even known about angels. "It's safe here."

"Dean..." The angel sighed.

Dean snarled.

"Look. They've gotta know where you are, right?"

Castiel made an irritated noise in that back of his throat, which Dean refused to interpret as a squawk.

"They're gonna find a way to make you stop. All I'm asking for is...half an hour. Tops!"

Castiel dropped into the middle of the road, with a rustle of annoyed feathers.

"They're going to catch me, Dean!" He snapped, storming past him towards the Bunker entrance.

"Hello to you too." Dean complained. He hauled open the heavy iron door and ushered the angel inside.

"I am sorry if I don't have time for human pleasantries." His vessel's blue eyes darted around, a slight frown forming into between his brows. "Although this place is heavily warded."

Dean rolled his eyes as the angel stomped down the main staircase.

"I do not understand what could be so important that..." Castiel cocked his head to the side. "Who is screaming?" he asked slowly.

Dean's eyes widened.

"Shit!" He swore and leaped the last three steps in a single jump, ignoring the protest from his knees. He pelted down the hallways, skidding past a rather surprised Sam. Castiel was keeping pace with him, sprinting towards the cell blocks with an expression which promised righteous fury on whoever was worrying Dean.

Urgh, he really needed new friends.

Dean unlocked the cell door with shaking hands, the screaming now audible to human hearing. It was gut-wrenching and painful.

Hermione was twitching in her sleep, kicking out at invisible assailants, even as her mouth continued to scream. Castiel crossed straight to her, resting his fingers on her temples. She stilled instantly, falling quiet in the Angel's arms.

Castiel sighed before lifting a murderous glare towards Dean.

"Why do you have a Sorceress in your dungeon?"

"She saved Dean's life." Sam explained, having finally caught up with them. "She tried to escape so we're keeping her in here. What are you doing?" Sam asked, catching sight of Dean.

Dean grunted, lifting Hermione into his arms easily and heading for the door.

"Look, there's no way were keeping her in here any more. She can stay in one of the bedrooms. We can lock it from the outside, I don't care, but she's not staying _here_." Dean left, leaving his brother and the angel to argue behind him. She was light, insanely light. Dean was pretty sure he could feel her ribs through her shirt.

"Dean!" Sam called after him, but he ignored him.

There was a spare room roughly halfway between Dean's and the kitchens which he'd been meaning to give to Castiel. That didn't matter right now. What mattered was that is was clean and he'd put sheets on the bed.

Whatever Cas had mojo'd her with, had sent her into a deep enough sleep that she just hung limply in his arms, not even stirring when Dean laid her down on the bed. She was wearing his shirt, he noticed numbly. No wonder she looked so tiny.

"Dean!" Castiel hissed from the doorway and Dean turned with a jolt.

"Yeah, Cas?"

The angel yanked him out into the corridor.

"What are you doing with a Sorceress?" He demanded.

"A what?"

Castiel paused and squinted at him, something Dean had always thought made him look like an angry cat.

"A Sorceress?" The angel offered. "You didn't know? Why are you keeping her here?"

"Course I didn't know! Why'd you think I asked you here? I wanted to know if she was dangerous."

The angel's nose twitched.

"Explain." He ground out.

After dragging Castiel through to the main area, Dean explained who the woman was and how she'd ended up in their cells.

"But the thing is, we don't know a thing about her or what she is..." Dean took a long drink out of the coffee mug someone, probably Sam, had left next to him.

Castiel sighed heavily, the one usually reserved from when Dean was doing something rebellious.

"She's a Sorceress. They...she would call herself a witch, but she's not..." He grimaced. "Her powers don't come from demons and she should have all of her soul. I imagine." He shrugged. "Do you know where she's from?"

Dean frowned, sipping his coffee.

"The UK, I guess. She's got the accent."

Castiel froze.

"What's her name?" He demanded.

"Cas...?"

Vibrant blue eyes turned on Dean.

"Her name, Dean!"

"Hermione Granger!" Dean blurted. "Jeeze!"

Castiel blinked.

"Oh." He said.

Dean waited impatiently but the angel just stood there, examining his fingernails.

ʺDammit Cas.'' Dean muttered, heading back towards Hermione's room.

* * *

The...witch woke quickly, fingers scrabbling at the bed sheets as she shoved herself backwards to huddle against the headboard defensively.

Dean stayed perfectly still as he waited for her eyes to focus. He and Cas' had been talking quietly, waiting for her to wake up. He'd wanted the angel on hand, just in case.

''Heya.'' Dean murmured.

Hermione's eyes became instantly alert and she glanced around, taking in the different location, the new people and...Yep, she just checked to see if the lamp was nailed down. Maybe Sam was right about her smashing his head in.

''Where am I?'' She demanded, voice hoarse. Her eyes turned to Castiel and a slight frown formed between her eyebrows. ''Why does he have wings?'' She added incredulously.

Dean, after gesturing to Cas' to '' _Shut the hell up_ '', answered the first question. Mostly because he didn't know what the fuck to do with the second one.

''We figured...Cas' said you weren't dangerous, so I thought you'd be more...'' He scowled. ''Comfortable or somethin' up here.''

Hermione stared at him. It was a lot like being stared at by an angel only somehow more disturbing. Her eyes were flat and dark and looked horribly like his own.

''Dangerous?'' She spat and her lip curled. ''I'm extremely dangerous. Just not to the likes of you.'' Her gaze switched over to Castiel. ''What is he?'' Apparently Hermione had discarded the terrified act in favour of being extremely pissed off. It was an improvement, Dean decided.

This time Dean wasn't fast enough to stop Cas' straightening up in his chair and saying,

''I'm an angel of the Lord.'' He glanced down at himself and winced. ''Or what's left of one.''

Hermione gave him a long look, frowning at something just behind Cas' shoulders which Dean couldn't see.

''Rubbish.'' She said in the way Dean would say '' _Bullshit_ ''. ''What are you? A Veela?''

Castiel actually scowled.

''Why do humans lack faith?'' He demanded and Dean snickered into his hand.

''Maybe it's the fact you're wearing an accountant.''

''Ad-Salesman.'' He corrected reproachfully. Pouting, and for fucks sake who taught the angel to pout, Castiel settled back in his chair and Dean turned back to see Hermione watching them warily.

''Anyway, my buddy Cas' here says you're a sorceress. Wanna tell me what that means?''

She glowered at them and didn't say anything.

''And we're sure she's not dangerous?'' He muttered to Castiel.

The angel squinted at her.

''If she is who I believe her to be, no. Or at least,'' He glared at Dean meaningfully. ''Not unless you provoke her.'' He turned back to the witch. ''Can I check?''

Hermione set her shoulders, glaring at the pair of them.

''Check what?'' She hissed.

''Check that you truly are who you say you are.'' He held out a hand. ''Please.''

She looked from his hand to Dean and back again.

''It's safe.'' Dean lied. ''Cas' won't hurt you.'' He sighed when she didn't move. ''Look, I need to know if I can trust you. So either you let Cas look you over or...'' He set his jaw. ''Or we have to put you back in that cell.''

Hermione went green, throwing the scar on her face into sharp relief and shuddered. Dean scowled, feeling like an asshole and also...the cells weren't _that_ bad. He'd been locked up in worse places.

She reached out with one hand, the one with the burn scar and clasped Castiel's tightly. They both stiffened and Castiel's eyes glowed blue as Hermione's hair began to crackle. They stayed like that for one long moment before each wrenched their hands away, Hermione scrabbling backwards as Cas' leaned back in his chair. He sighed heavily as Hermione curled in on herself.

''That _is_ Hermione Granger.'' He verified sadly just as Hermione blurted,

''That's an angel.'' Sounding slightly hysterical.

''What the fuck did you do to her, Cas?'' Dean demanded, getting to his feet and stepping towards the witch. ''Hey, you okay?''

Hermione clenched her jaw.

''Angel's _aren't_ real.'' She defended, sounding just like Dean had, years earlier. She didn't take her eyes off them though. Not for a second.

Cas' sighed heavily.

''I am very sorry.''

Dean frowned, busy shaking out a blanket.

''Dammit Cas', if you knew it was going to hurt her, why'd you do it?''

The angel grimaced.

''That's not...I'm sorry we didn't interfere.'' He seemed to be talking exclusively to Hermione who was staring at him and shaking slightly. ''It was deemed unnecessary...''

Dean didn't move fast enough and the witch launched herself at Cas', knocking his chair over and sending the angel sprawling across the floor.

''Unnecessary?'' She screamed, all of her fear forgotten in this utter fury. ''We needed help!'' She yelled down at Castiel who closed his eyes. ''You could have helped up! You could have done something! Do you know how many of my people are dead?'' Dean stepped closer to her, watching her shoulders shake. ''Hundreds of _children,_ you monster. Children who didn't do anything other than being born! My friends, my family...They're all dead and you thought it was _unnecessary...!''_ Dean wrapped his arms around her waist as she lunged forward, looking ready to claw Castiel's face of.

''Cas get out of here!'' He ordered, barely holding her back. The angel got to his feet slowly, his expression that level of complete guilt that only Castiel could manage.

''I'm sorry...'' He defended backing towards the door.

''You're a monster!'' Hermione screeched, nails digging into Dean's arms as she fought to get free. ''You're as bad as they are...'' The door shut behind Cas and the overhead light shattered, showering them in broken glass and darkness. Hermione went limp, whimpering.

''Whoah.'' Dean breathed, almost staggering as he stepped backwards carefully, lifting her so she didn't get glass in her feet. It was almost completely dark now, with no windows to let in the daylight, only the very faint outline around the door frame gave them any illumination. The room was quiet too with Hermione's very faint sobs competing with the crunch of glass under Dean's boots. He found the bed easily enough and set her down on it before reaching for the the bedside lamp. It seemed to have survived...whatever the hell it was she had just done and clicked on, lighting up the room. They both took in a deep breath.

''Shit.'' Dean whispered and Hermione whimpered.

''Please...'' She begged, staring up at him. ''I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...'' Her voice wavered and she brought her knees up and hugged them. ''Please just don't...''

He rubbed at his face with both hands before turning away and leaning forwards slightly, ruffling his hair to get the stray bits of glass out of it. Once he was sure it was all gone, he turned back towards her, eyeing her suspiciously.

''You gonna flip out again or are we okay?''

Hermione swallowed and shook her head, staring at him over the tops of her knees.

''Good.'' He sighed. ''Look, I'm gonna go get a brush or somethin'...gotta clean this up. Stay here, okay?''

He was almost at the door when he heard her whisper,

''I'm sorry.''

He paused, one hand on the door handle.

''Ain't your fault.''

Which was true. It was his.

* * *

Castiel was slouched in one of the armchairs in the library. He was staring at nothing in particular and startled when Dean dropped into the other chair.

''What the fuck?'' Dean asked tiredly.

''Dean...'' Cas' started but Dean cut across him.

''No, seriously...what the hell happened in there? How do you know who she is?''

Casitel sighed heavily.

''We...The host was always aware of the magical community. They weren't actually evil, just a by-product of some minor pagan deity. We were ordered not to interfere in there world, just as were were ordered not to interfere in yours. Hermione Granger is...or was, one of the greatest warriors her world has ever seen. Even the angels knew who she was, although...'' He grimaced. ''Something went wrong...Someone who wasn't supposed to die did, I wasn't really paying attention. There was a war and she is one of the last people left on a losing side. She's right,'' He added, meeting Dean's eyes. ''A lot of innocent people have died.''

''Why didn't you help them?''

Castiel gave him a look which meant Dean was being particularly human.

''Innocent people die everyday, we don't help them. I'm just an angel, Dean. I don't know if you remember but my stint as a god didn't work out so well.''

Dean laughed bitterly.

''Yeah, I guess. What do I do with her?''

Cas' shrugged and Dean rolled his eyes.

''Gee, thanks Cas'...''

''Why...oh. Sarcasm.''

Dean got to his feet.

''You stay for a bit okay? I gotta get a new light from somewhere.''

Hermione was exactly where he left her, but the bits of glass that had been caught in her hair were missing now and the room looked suspiciously as though she'd gone over it with a fine toothed comb.

''You okay?'' He asked, not really expecting an answered. He didn't get one. He shut the door behind him and kicked one of the chairs into the middle of the room so he could reach the light fitting. She watched him work quietly and when the light flickered on Dean watched the tension drain away from her shoulders as the shadows faded.

''Thank you.'' She whispered.

Dean almost fell off his chair. He blinked at her, mouth gaping open.

''You're...uh...welcome.'' He stepped off the chair, towards her. ''Listen, you sure you're okay?''

She shrugged.

''Cas' said you were a warrior...like a fighter or something?''

Something happened to her face, something that was almost but not entirely a smile.

''I warned you.'' She whispered.

Dean snorted.

''Whatever sweetheart.'' He set the chair back in the corner. ''I'm gonna go fix lunch. Any requests?''

She met his eyes and raised one hand, snapping her fingers.

''Fuck.'' Dean hissed, leaping backwards.

Just above her fingers a tiny, flickering blue flame hovered, reflected in Hermione's brown eyes.

''Put that out!'' Dean ordered and the flame vanished. ''Don't _ever_ do that again!''

She flinched and Dean stormed out, slamming the door behind him and leaning against it. He couldn't...just could _not_ have fire here. He wasn't losing this home too.

He locked the door and walked away.

* * *

Two days later and Cas' was gone, Sam was asleep and Dean felt like a dick. Hermione hadn't spoken to him since he'd yelled at her, but she was still eating which was something. Cas' had left not long afterwards and Dean hadn't heard from his since. Sam was still sick and Dean had managed to bully him into bed early so the Bunker was virtually empty.

And Dean was hovering outside Hermione's door trying to work up the courage to go in. Not that he was scared of her. No. She just made him...nervous.

''Hermione?'' Dean knocked quietly, mostly hoping she was asleep. ''Can I come in?'' There was no response, but that wasn't unusual, so he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

She'd apparently decided that Dean really wasn't trying to drug her and had started eating proper food. By the look of her plate she'd nearly managed to finish dinner. Sam reckoned she wasn't used to food in large quantities and it would take her a while to get used to more.

Hermione looked up from her bed, where she was curled under the covers, and waited for him to do something. He held out the bundle of clothes he had in his hand.

''Shower's free,'' He offered hopefully. ''If you want.''

* * *

She was in there for almost half an hour, which Dean couldn't actually blame her for. They'd been letting her use the bathrooms and sinks and stuff, but this was the first time she'd had a shower in...a week? Felt longer than that.

He'd almost fallen asleep when she finally stepped out, towelling her hair dry. Dean's clothes were huge on her and she'd had to roll up his sweatpants several times so her feet could stick out the bottom. Her hair, although wet, still managed to frizz into curls but most of her tan had apparently been ingrained dirt as her skin was now a flushed with a faint tinge to it which made her look...European? He had no idea. His shirt revealed the scars on both arms and she held one forearm close against her chest, hiding something from view.

He realised his mouth was open so he closed it with a snap as he pushed away from the wall he'd been leaning against.

''Listen...''

She arched one eyebrow and folded the towel neatly.

''I'm not gonna lock your door tonight.'' Dean blurted.

She dropped the towel.

''Beg pardon?'' Hermione said, apparently startled out of her silence.

Dean ruffled his hair.

''It's not fair to keep you locked up in there.'' Especially when she technically hadn't done anything wrong. ''I'm still keeping the Bunker locked down, so you can't actually get out, but,'' She blinked. ''Cas' says you're not dangerous and...'' He sighed. ''I'm sick of being the bad guy.''

She kept staring at him, so Dean turned away, heading back down the hallway.

''Have you developed Stockholm Syndrome?''

Dean almost tripped over his feet. He looked back over his shoulder and saw she was frowning at him, biting her lip as though she wished she hadn't spoken.

He grinned at her.

''Ain't you supposed to be the one who gets that?'' He asked.

She gave him a bleak look before relenting and giving him an incredibly small smile.

Which was awesome.

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **So this is the sequel to No Good Dead. It's probably going to be about four chapters long.**_

 _ **Please let me know what you think of this series, I'm a bit nervous about it.**_

 ** _Hood_**


	2. Chapter 2

''WHAT THE HELL!''

Dean and Hermione looked up from their breakfasts.

''Mornin' Sammy!'' Dean's grin faltered slightly as his brother seemed to sway in the doorway.

''Dean...'' Sam said slowly. ''She's out of her room.''

''Yeah.''

'' _Why_ is she out of her room?'' Sam wailed. Hermione went back to her food, apparently confident that no one was going to attack her before she finished her bowl.

''I let her out.'' Dean ate some of his oatmeal and scowled. ''Why do we have this healthy crap?'' He added unhappily.

''It's good for you.'' Sam retorted distractedly. ''Dean, she's dangerous!''

Hermione gave him a triumphant look which Dean only caught because he looked up when she wasn't expecting it.

''Shut up. You're not dangerous...Look, she's fine. It's fine. She's not gonna leave the Bunker, we can take her in a fight. If you're really worried, lock your door at night.''

''Dean, it took two of us to get her in the cell to start with!'' Sam protested.

Dean ignored that and poured Sam a coffee. Sam whimpered, sat down and hunched himself over it as though he was still a college student and not a six foot four hunter of the night.

* * *

Life went back to normal, or the new normal now that they had a permanent address. Until Sam was properly back on his feet after the first trial, they weren't taking any hunts and even Sam refused to leave Hermione in the Bunker on her own. He thought she'd lock them out or something.

However the downside was that they were currently sitting on top of the largest lore collection in America, since Singer Salvage went up in smoke two years ago. And that meant research.

Lots and lots of research.

Garth had called in with literally the bare bones of a hunt and no idea what it was he was hunting, but Sam had guessed pagan so that was the direction they were heading in. Or at least Sam was. Dean was mostly keeping a close eye on Hermione, who was sitting slightly further away from the brothers and keeping a close eye on Dean.

Sam threw down his page of translations with a huff.

''I'm stuck.'' He moaned, pulling at his hair. ''I swear Archaic Latin makes my head swim.'' He scowled at Dean as though this was his fault. ''I've got no idea what he's hunting. I mean some of the signs point to a pagan god of wrath, but there's some pretty major contradictions in the lore.'' Dean sighed, watching as Hermione very quietly tugged Sam's translations towards her.

''Maybe Garth's wrong?'' He suggested.

Sam scoffed and didn't notice Hermione stealing his red pen. Dean got the uneasy feeling that she was just as good at pick-pocketing as he was and for exactly the same reason.

''Garth weird,'' Sam grimaced. ''But he's a good hunter. There's _something_ there but I don't know what.'' He yawned, scratching at his jaw. Dean frowned as Hermione scored out a long line of Sam's writing and began scribbling on top of it. ''Maybe I need to look at something else...''

Hermione got to her feet and dropped the page of notes in Sam's lap and wandered off muttering something which sounded like, ''Your Latin is atrocious.'' under her breath as she passed Dean.

Sam read over the notes with a frown, double checked them and then blinked.

''Huh.'' He said. ''Would you look at that?''

''What?'' Dean asked, trying to work out where Hermione was going today. And yeah, he knew she was searching the Bunker for something. Some rooms now had a slightly ruffled look, but at least she put everything back where it was when she was done.

Jokes on her. All her witchy stuff was in the safe.

Sam held up the translation.

''The Celtic spirit of wrath.'' He looked up at Dean who almost started laughing. The last time he'd seen that face, one of Sammy's teachers had corrected him in class. ''Dude, she red-penned my work!''

* * *

''Okay seriously? It's like I'm being haunted.'' Dean complained.

Hermione, who'd been sitting silently several feet away, jumped and Dean caught a glimpse of a gold medallion beneath her shirt.

''I know you can talk.'' He added, scowling. ''C'mon, I'm bored and this job sucks.'' He dropped another mug into the soapy water and then almost stabbed himself with a knife as she appeared next time him, holding a dish cloth. ''Or you can help. That works too.''

Hermione almost smiled.

They worked in silence for a bit before Dean's natural curiosity got the better of him.

''So,'' He asked. ''How'd you end up in America?''

Hermione paused in the middle of drying a bowl and wrinkled her nose, which pulled at the scar on her face, making it look deeper than it actually was.

''I'm on the run.'' She said at last. Dean passed her a mug to dry. ''Europe hasn't been safe for a long time and I'm too well known over there. America seemed the safer option.''

''What you do?'' He asked bluntly. ''Why're they after you?''

''I was born.'' She told him blandly. ''That was my greatest mistake. Closely followed by befriending the Chosen One and being a royal pain in their arse.''

Dean snorted.

''You gonna tell me who _''they''_ are?''

''At this point?'' She shrugged. ''They're everyone.''

They finished the dishes and Dean drained the sink, looking at the pile of clean crockery with a smile.

''I have dishes.'' He said proudly to Hermione who just frowned at him in confusion. ''Shut up.'' He added, flushing.

''Oh, make up your mind.'' Hermione snapped, before freezing, eyes wide.

Dean paused, looking her over. Whatever the hell had been done to this woman it had left her more messed up than him. He grinned at her and she relaxed slightly.

''C'mon. I wanna work on my Baby and I need the company.''

* * *

''What do you think?'' Dean asked, running a hand over the Impala proudly. The witch looked at the car, then at Dean and back again. Hermione's lips twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile.

''She's...very handsome.''

Dean chuckled.

''Good answer. You know anything about cars?''

She shrugged.

''My dad taught me some when I was little. It's not really important information.''

''Lies.'' Dean defended, before pointing to the stool he kept next to the car. ''Sit. Learn.''

Hermione gave one longing look at the large iron garage door before she sat down, folding her hands in her lap and giving him her full attention.

* * *

''You really not a bad guy, are you?''

Hermione looked up from the book she was reading, one of Sam's old ones he'd carried around since he was a kid, and fixed him with the blank stare which seemed to be her speciality.

''If I say no, will you let me go?'' She asked dryly.

Dean shrugged and she grimaced.

''As far as I'm concerned...no, I'm not a '' _bad guy_ '' as you put it. I've done...'' She shuddered. ''Things I'm not proud of, but who hasn't.'' Dean nodded understandingly. ''No matter what I've done, how broken _my_ soul is...I can assure you, the other side has done much worse.''

Dean leaned back in his chair.

''What're you fighting about?'' He asked.

Hermione laughed bitterly.

''In the beginning? Blood, mostly. Revenge, partly.''

''And now?''

She raised one eyebrow.

''I don't know if you know this, but one woman armies tend to die rather quickly. Now, I'm just fighting to live that little bit longer.''

Dean watched her as she went back to reading.

''Don't you have friends?'' He asked bluntly.

For a second her mask slipped and her expression crumpled like she was going to cry, before she took in a deep breath.

''Not any more.'' She glared at him. ''People who get close to me tend to end up dead.''

''I'm not letting you go.'' Dean told her, rolling his eyes.

Hermione bared her teeth at him.

''Do you get off on flirting with evisceration?'' She demanded, angrily.

''That means being sliced up, right?'' Dean grinned at her. ''Been there, done that. Didn't kill me. What's that?''

Hermione stiffened.

''What?'' She asked cautiously.

''The scar on your leg.'' He pointed to where his sweats had ridden up and Hermione grimaced. Although Sam had done a run to Wallmart to get her underwear and crap, Hermione still spent most of her time in Dean's clothes, which meant that more of her scars were on display than she probably wanted.

''Slashing hex.'' She murmured, looking down at it. The scar looked as though someone took a scalpel to her leg, several straight clean scars, which have mostly faded to pale white lines.

''What's that do?'' Dean asked, leaning forward to peer at it.

''What it looks like.'' She sighed. ''I got lucky, someone got me out in time to save my leg. Cho wasn't so fortunate.''

* * *

Dean scowled at the pile of bloody tissues, but shoved them into the trash can anyway. Sam wasn't really getting better but at least he wasn't getting any worse. Which was just as good to a Winchester. Hermione had wandered off to bed about half an hour ago and Dean was waiting for the nights screaming to start. Sam, luckily, couldn't hear it. His room was on the other side of the Bunker. Dean could. Most of the time he just let her be. It was probably safer for both of them if he didn't try to wake her up. He really didn't want to get kicked in the balls again.

Still, there was one thing he had to do before he called it a night.

Sam turned off all the lights before he went to bed. It was something left over from when they were kids, something Dad had always insisted on. Which was fine...unless you were afraid of the dark.

The switch for the main light in Hermione's room was located outside her door and Sam would turn it off every night on his way past.

Dean clicked it back on with a sigh. He wasn't going to ask because he wasn't a complete douchebag, but he was pretty sure Hermione had been kept in some kind of hellish solitary confinement which made the nightmares ten times worse when she woke up in the dark.

He turned the hall light back on too, just to be safe.

* * *

They found an uneasy truce in the Bunker. Sam and Dean were researching, Hermione...Well, Dean wasn't really sure what his prisoner was doing except not escaping. Sam's theory was that she was building up her strength before she murdered them both in their sleep and Dean had the horrible idea that he might be right. Or at least...half right. Hermione had gained back some weight so she no longer looks as gaunt as she was when Dean first met her. The shadows under her eyes have faded slightly and she looked more human.

''When did you come to America?'' Dean asked and Hermione jumped, almost knocking over the box she'd been rummaging through. She looked from him to the box and narrowed her eyes.

''About two years ago?'' She offered, before very slowly moving back to the crate.

''Where were you before that?'' Dean wondered if she thought talking to him would distract him from the fact she was very obviously looking for something.

''England briefly. Europe before that. England.''

''How old are you?'' He asked suddenly.

Hermione set a stack of magazines to one side and shrugged.

''Early thirties?'' She offered, pulling a dusty jar from the box and peering at it.

Dean frowned.

''Don't you know?''

''It's not something I keep track of.'' Hermione murmured setting the jar aside.

''So you're about the same age as me?'' Dean stepped closer and looked into the box. ''What're you doing?''

''Looking for something.''

''Your stick's not in here.'' Dean told her, frowning at a large hunk of rock she'd pulled out.

Hermione looked up at him and glared. Dean worried briefly that she was going to throw the rock at him.

''If my _wand_ was here...believe me, I wouldn't be.'' She sighed. ''No...there's something else...'' She trailed off as she pulled a small bottle from the box. The stopper had been rammed on tightly and then sealed with wax, a worn paper label tied around its neck. It looked like something from Alice in Wonderland. The stuff that's _in_ the bottle...that's...

''What is that?'' Dean asked, eyeing it warily.

Hermione's lips pursed and she frowned at the bottle.

''I'm not sure. It's bad though.''

''How'd you know?'' The stuff was black and oozy, moving around the bottle despite Hermione holding it still. The chances of it being good weren't high.

''I could feel it. It's evil.'' Looking pale, Hermione held the bottle up to the light. ''Have you got somewhere safer than a cardboard box to keep this?''

Dean took the bottle, grimacing when he realised it was icy cold to the touch.

''Yeah,'' He said absently. ''It can go in the safe with the rest of the dangerous shit.''

Dean froze and looked at Hermione.

Hermione looked back and smirked.

''Oh you...'' Dean clenched his jaw as she stepped neatly towards the door. ''You won't find it.'' He warned her.

Hermione shrugged.

''There are three floors to this place.''

She moved closer to the corridor.

''Hundreds of rooms.'' Dean continued.

Hermione vanished off down the corridor at a sprint, leaving Dean in the storage room clutching the bottle.

Dammit, now he was gonna have to wait until she'd gone to bed before he hid the fricken thing.

* * *

Hermione was standing frozen outside one of the bathroom doors when Dean found her next and he stopped, worked out what she was listening to and grabbed her elbow, dragging her away. Strangely, Hermione didn't try to kill him, instead letting him pull her down the corridor until neither of them could hear the sounds of Sam hurling.

''What's wrong with him?''

''Flu.'' Dean lied.

''Flu?'' Hermione repeated doubtfully.

''Yeah.''

She blinked and then shook his hand off. Her body was tensed as though she couldn't decide between running away and staying in one place. A quiet growl bubbled out from behind her clenched teeth which made Dean twitch and wonder where his silver was.

''Has he been eating?'' She asked eventually, sounding as though the words were pulled from her.

''Uh...'' Dean frowned before shaking his head. ''Not really. Not like he used to. Says he feels sick.''

''Ginger.'' Hermione bit out.

''Huh?''

She began to speak very fast.

''It will settle his stomach and help him keep food down. He needs to be hydrated. Keep him away from alcohol and coffee until the _flu_ ,'' She narrowed her eyes at him. ''Has run its course.''

''Why the hell are you telling me this?'' Dean demanded.

She bit her lip and scowled at him.

''I took an oath and it's one I try my best to keep.'' She stepped away, heading towards her room.

* * *

''Were you always a fighter?''

''Were you always a hunter?'' Hermione retorted.

Dean added tomatoes to the pot she was stirring and waited, trying not to think back to that one year he'd spent trying to be normal with Ben and Lisa.

''No.'' She said at last. ''Not always. I was going to be a healer.''

''Like a doctor?'' He asked, watching her carefully.

''Yes. I even practised for a short while before things got really bad.'' Hermione grimaced and rubbed at her ribs absent-mindedly.

''So you're pretty smart then, huh?''

She turned to look at him, the lights in the kitchen reflecting in her brown eyes.

''They used to call me the '' _Brightest Witch of the Age_.'''' She breathed, before swallowing and looking away. ''So I suppose I am pretty smart yes. Hasn't helped me much, but...''

''Is that how you knew to help Sam?'' Sam isn't happy without alcohol or coffee, in fact he's usually completely pissed off, but even he has to admit he's been being sick less and he's keeping more food down.

''Something like that, yes.''

* * *

When you're a Winchester the universe doesn't wait until there's a free moment to drop the next job on you. Or until you _haven't_ got a Sorceress lock up in your home who's only staying for as long as it takes her to find her stuff. So Dean wasn't really surprised to get a call from the Prophet.

''I found the next trial.''

Dean groaned, leaning against the door frame.

''What, really?''

On the other end of the phone Kevin sounded exhausted.

''Yeah, I think so. You and Sam need to come up here to take a look, because I need to sleep. For, like, ever.''

Dean grimaced, looking out at the main room of the Bunker. Sam and Hermione were engaged in a weird game where neither one of them would let the other one out of their sight. Sam was pretending to write stuff up on his laptop, while Hermione flicked slowly through a book she clearly wasn't reading.

''Right. Listen kid, I need you to pack up your stuff.''

''What?'' Kevin yelped and Dean ducked back into the hallway.

''Yeah. Get everything together, I'll be there in a few hours.''

''What the hell? Where are we going?''

''Doesn't matter. Just be ready!'' He hung up and shoved his phone into his pocket. ''Sam?''

''Dean!'' Sam yelled back.

Dean rolled his eyes and went back into the main room.

''I need you to hold down the fort for a while. I'm going to get Kevin.''

Sam shut his laptop, looking alarmed.

''What? Is he okay?''

''Yeah, fine. I just figured he'd be safer here than on Garth's boat.''

Sam frowned.

''And what you just decided this now?''

''Yeah.''

''Without telling me?''

''Yeah. What I can't have independent thoughts any more?'' Dean snarked suddenly irrationally angry with his little brother.

Sam clenched his jaw and looked pointedly at Hermione, before turning his bitch face back on Dean.

''I'd say you'd been having plenty of independent thoughts!'' Sam complained. ''We're a team, Dean. You can't just make decisions like this on your own. Ever since you got back from Purgatory, it's been you against everyone else! Just like with Benny or the Trials or hey, even her!'' Hermione's lip curled and she scowled at Sam. ''Either we're a team or we're not. You can't just...''

''Except I can,'' Dean warned darkly. His temper was shorter after Purgatory than it had ever been. ''And I will. I don't have time for this, Sam. You made your choice when you walked out on your job for a year. So I'm going to get the friggen' Prophet and you're going to hold up here until I get back.''

Sam's jaw worked silently as he glowered at Dean.

''Fine.'' He hissed, unhappily. ''What do I do with her?''

Hermione stopped pretending that she hadn't been listening and looked up abruptly, staring at Dean.

''You gonna behave?'' He asked, rubbing at his face.

She shrugged, which Dean took to mean yes.

''Great. Leave her alone, Sam. She's not gonna bother you if you don't piss her off first.'' He grabbed the keys to the Impala off the table and reached for his coat. He paused and looked at Hermione. ''Oh, and leave the lights on, okay?''

Dean stormed out of the room leaving a furious Sam and a wide eyed and speechless Hermione behind him.

* * *

After Kevin had soaked him in holy water, which had really done a lot to improve Dean's mood, the kid shoved his crap into the Impala and insisted that someone feed him.

''Where are we going anyway?'' Kevin asked, halfway through a taco.

''Safe house.'' Dean grunted, before sighing heavily. ''The next trial, Kevin...''

''It's bad.'' Kevin said easily, licking grease from his fingers. ''I have no idea how you're actually meant to do it but, you know...not my problem.''

Dean had the horrible sinking feeling that by leaving this kid on his own for as long as they had, they've probably messed him up completely in a way that's never going to go away.

Most of the journey back to the Bunker was spent in silence, Kevin drifting in and out of sleep. He looked exhausted and ill and a hell of a lot older than a kid of barely nineteen should.

* * *

''Listen,'' Dean pulled Kevin to a halt before he opened the main door to the Bunker. They'd made good time, mainly because Dean had used the speed limit as a guideline and had high tailed it back home. Seven hours was a long time. A lot could happen in seven hours. Sam could be dead. Hermione could be dead. They could _both_ be dead. ''The reason I brought you down here is because there's someone I need you to keep an eye on. Just remember one thing...Do _not_ let her out of the Bunker!''

Kevin frowned at him.

''What? You got the wicked witch of the West down here?''

Dean groaned as he shoved the door open.

''Something like that.''

Sam found them almost immediately and gave Dean a glare which said he wasn't planning on calming down any time soon. Dean ignored the relieved feeling in his chest and gave his brother the cold shoulder.

''Hey Kevin.'' Sam greeted.

''Hermione!'' Dean yelled.

''Sam.'' Kevin murmured, rubbing his eyes as he stared around him, taking in the Men of Letter's Bunker.

''Hermione!'' Dean yelled again.

''Who's he...?'' Kevin started and then cut himself off when Hermione appeared around the corner. Kevin let out a weird noise which sounded as though he'd just managed to knock the air out of himself and Dean could see why. Even with several good meal in her, Hermione, dressed in Dean's clothes and scarred as she was, was definitely someone to look twice at. Although maybe it had more to do with the fact that the Prophet hadn't seen a woman in months and Hermione...

''Hey,'' Dean breathed, undeniably relieved to see she was still here. ''You ok?''

Hermione gave the room a wary look and outright scowled at Sam before she frowned at Dean in question.

''Kevin Tran...'' Sam started quietly from behind them. ''Meet Hermione Granger. Dean's prisoner.''

Dean sighed heavily, ignoring his brother. He offered the witch a weak smile and she stopped frowning, instead turning on her heel and vanishing.

''I'm gonna go pack some stuff together. Tell him what the next trial is.'' He ordered, following Hermione out of the room.

Behind them Kevin said,

''Are they...?''

And Sam sighed.

''It's...complicated.''

* * *

''What's going on?'' Hermione asked as Dean shoved extra shirts into his duffle bag. She was standing in the hallway outside of his room, eyeing him nervously.

''Me and Sam, we gotta go do a thing. We might not be back for a few days neither.'' One brown eyebrow arched.

''Am I going back in the cell?'' She asked, with just enough tension to her body that meant she intended to run for it as soon as he said yes.

Dean frowned at her.

''What? No. ''

She relaxed visibly.

''Then why are you telling me this?''

''Because I need to...Can you pass me that bag of salt?''

''No.'' Hermione hissed.

Dean looked up from his packing to stare at her.

''Why not?''

One bare foot tapped at the dividing line between the hallway and his bedroom.

''I am not going in there.'' Hermione bit out and Dean realised she was trembling.

''What?'' Dean looked around him in confusion and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach when he spotted his bed. ''Fuck, I don't...'' He stalled over the word, turning back to stare at her. ''I wouldn't.'' He defended. She didn't say anything, just eyed him warily. ''I'm a dick, I'm not fucking evil!''

Hermione didn't respond and Dean groaned, leaving his packing on the bed as he stepped closer to the doorway.

''Fuck.'' He said again, softly. ''Did they...?''

''No.'' Hermione whispered hollowly, eyes not really focussing on anything. ''I got lucky. It was close a few times but...''

Dean gave in and wrapped both arms around her, hugging her.

Hermione froze for about three seconds before she relaxed slightly and just stood there, leaning her head against his chest. Dean decided to take what he could get and held on.

In the distance there was the sound of Sam crashing around, arguing with Kevin in a loud voice. The Bunker was cool and Hermione's hair tickled at his chin as they stood there, breathing.

''Listen,'' Dean murmured, stepping back and meeting her gaze. ''If I take a woman to bed its because she wants to be there. Okay?''

Hermione considered him for a moment before nodding. Once.

''Whoever the fuck it was, had you locked up in their dungeon deserves Hell. And believe me,'' Dean scowled. ''I don't say that lightly.''

Hermione gave him a mirthless smile, which had entirely too many teeth in it to be comforting.

''Right. Anyway, me and Sam gotta go do something and I need to trust you.''

Hermione blinked.

''You're keeping me locked up in your...'' She frowned looking around herself at the Bunker. ''Subterranean compound!'' She protested.

''Its a Bunker.'' Dean interrupted, fetching the salt himself and adding it to his bag.

''And you want me to trust you!'' Hermione continued, staring at him wildly.

''No, don't trust me.'' He grinned at her and she blinked, looking bewildered. ''I'm the one keeping you locked up here. I need to be able to trust _you._ ''

The witch scowled and the lights flickered.

''And that right there?'' Dean pointed to the lights and it stopped abruptly. ''Kinda makes me not want to trust you. Look, I know bad people and sweetheart, you ain't one of them. So I need you to look after Kevin until we get back. Just keep him fed and make sure he sleeps, all right? He's a good kid, never done anything to anyone. You used to be a doctor or whatever, look after him.''

''You're completely mental.'' Hermione announced, folding her arms.

''Yeah, probably.''

* * *

After arguing with Sam _again_ , the Winchesters finally left the Bunker, making sure to lock it behind them.

''Are you sure about this?'' Sam asked quietly.

''Sure about letting my brother go to Hell? No, Sam I'm not.'' Dean clenched his hands around the steering wheel angrily. The second trial, according to the Prophet Kevin, was to rescue an innocent soul from Hell. So here they were driving off to find a reaper to send Sam to Hell. A place Dean had never wamted to go back to.

''What? No, not that. I meant about leaving Kevin with her.''

''They'll be fine.'' Dean murmured, trying not to think about it. He had no idea if they'd be fine, not really. Hermione might have been lying to him, might have fooled Cas' and they might go home to Prophet guts everywhere. But Dean...Dean trusted her.

''Dean...''

''Just don't, Sammy.''

* * *

They got Bobby's soul to Heaven where it belonged and Sam completed the second Trial. Only now Sam was passed out on the back seat and Benny was stuck back in Purgatory and Crowley knew what they were trying to do and Castiel wasn't answering his calls.

Dean didn't bother trying to wake up Sam when he got into the Bunker, instead slinging his little brother across his shoulders and staggered through the hallway to Sam's bedroom.

* * *

''What's wrong with him?'' Hermione pressed quietly.

Dean jumped, turning to glare at her.

''Don't creep up on me.''

''What's wrong with him?'' Hermione insisted, frowning at Sam. She pushed away from the door frame to stand next to Dean at the foot of Sam's bed.

''The last Trial screwed him up.''

''Trial?'' Hermione asked, moving forward and resting one hand on Sam's forehead. ''He's running a fever.''

''I know.'' Dean frowned as her hand moved to Sam's neck, feeling for a pulse. She did it confidently ''The Trials. We're trying to do something and...they're making him sick.''

''His pulse is sluggish.'' Hermione sighed.

''I know.'' Dean snapped.

She winced, sitting down on the edge of Sam's mattress and buried her head in her hands. ''Shit.'' She breathed.

''What?''

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, pulling at the scar on her face.

''I can help.'' She said at last.

''Help with what?'' Dean asked suspiciously.

''With Sam. Or at the very least I can tell you exactly what's going wrong.''

''Is that...'' Really necessary, Dean started to ask but stopped, looking at his brother. Sam looked small on his bed, a lot thinner than a guy whose six foot four should. His skin greyish and his breathing is shallow, even in his sleep.

Something is clearly seriously wrong with his baby brother.

He turned back to Hermione, taking in a deep breath as he did so. These trials...They're not good and Sam's fatalistic attitude to them? That's worse. It was never meant to be Sam doing them, it was meant to be Dean. But he messed up and now Sam's paying the price when he should be out there living his life. Not comatose on a bed in an underground bunker whilst his brother debates taking help from a witch.

''What do you need?'' He gave in.

''You said you trust me?'' She asked quietly, looking exhausted herself.

''Yeah.'' Although Dean's still not sure why. Hermione looked up at him with serious brown eyes and winces.

''I need my wand and my belongings and then I'm going to do something that will probably scare you.''

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **Hey, this is a shorter one.**_

 _ **Firstly thanks for the overwhelmingly positive response, I'm glad you like it so far.**_

 _ **Special thanks go to; BrightStar, Stanley869 [Yes, because tragic is the only way I know how], KnowitallBookworm13 [Glad you think so], Duner89 [Yes he is], meldz [Season Eight]**_

 _ **Special Special Thanks go to the Guest who told me about Lima Syndrome. TA and I'm using that, I hope you don't mind. :D**_

 ** _Please let me know what you think of this,_**

 ** _Hood_**


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione's eyes hadn't left her wand since he got it out of the safe and brought it to Sam's room.

''I give this to you, how do I know you won't just make a break for it?'' Dean argued.

She smiled sadly.

''I thought you trusted me.'' She murmured and Dean scowled.

''I trust you.'' He defended. ''But that's my brother...''

Hermione sighed.

''How do I know you won't run for it?'' Dean wan't an idiot. Yeah, he and Sam managed to catch her two weeks ago but she'd was exhausted and injured. Now she'd had some rest and healed and Dean...isn't sure he'd come out on top. Besides if she wanted to leave that badly...Wouldn't it be wrong to stop her?

''Just...'' Dean stretched out his hand. ''Just find out what's wrong with him. Please. Promise me you'll help?''

Hermione nodded and held out her own hand. The wand slipped from Dean's grasp and shot across the room to Hermione who closed her fingers around it with a smile even as Dean flinched.

''You have no idea how much I dislike being parted from this.'' She breathed, before opening her eyes and...smirking. There was a spark in her eyes which just dared Dean to try and take her on and Dean got the worried feeling he'd just done something _insanely_ stupid.

She looked longingly towards the door, the wand tapping against her thigh.

''You promised.'' Dean murmured and she flinched.

''I don't have much in the world,'' Hermione hissed. ''But I do have my honour. My word is good. Now,'' Hermione grimaced, turning back to Sam. ''Lets see what's wrong.''

* * *

She'd been right. This _was_ scaring him.

Hermione was standing over Sam's bed, her bare feet padding along the ground as she moved across the floor, occasionally muttering under her breath. She'd started out telling him what she was doing...but eventually drifted off into worried frowning, too focused on her work to talk. So he knew that some of the lights floating above Sam were measuring his heart rate and the blue one around his head was something to do with his brain. But the dark red and green ones which Hermione twisted through the air with her wand...Dean didn't know what those were and he was afraid to find out. Sam was going to kill him when he woke up, he thought absently as Hermione outright scowled at a band of black light near Sam's middle.

She gave an abrupt wave and all of the lights disappeared.

''So?'' Dean asked, heart sinking as she covered her face with her hands. ''Is he going to get better?''

''On his own?'' She lowered her hands and sighed. ''No, he's not.'' Hermione glanced up at him and Dean felt dread settle in the bottom of his stomach. ''Sam's internal organs are in the process of shutting down, very slowly. At the moment, this is just causing fatigue, giving him trouble keeping food down and you said he was coughing up blood?'' Dean nodded. ''That would be the damage to his lungs. The good news is that, as far as I can tell there's no damage to his brain or metal faculties. But...I've dealt with cases like this before. People would get hit with this jinx and we'd think everything was fine when nothing happened immediately...and then they got tired and sicker and either they died when they couldn't keep up in the field or they wasted away quietly.'' She sighed. ''What's causing this? A curse...something he's done...?''

''It's the Trials.'' Dean whispered, staring at his brother in horror. ''They're killing him.''

Hermione tapped her wand off her leg, looking nervous.

''Explain.'' She said. ''Now.''

In as few words as possible Dean outlined the plan to shut the gates of Hell and the trials Kevin had showed them from the Demon Tablet.

''Sammy wasn't even supposed to be doing the damn things, I was.'' He finished.

''Will he get better when he completes these...?'' Hermione grimaced, waving a hand through the air. ''Trials?''

''Maybe?'' Dean offered. He had no idea.

''Right.'' Hermione leant against the wall and folded her arms. ''Look, he will continue to die, slowly, until either he completes this trial or someone fixes him.''

''So we take him to a hospital.'' Dean blurted getting to his feet. ''I can fake insurance...they can fix him!''

She looked at him pityingly.

''There isn't anything they can do. They'll pump him full of drugs but they can't actually halt the deterioration. This trial...whatever it's doing to him, it's going to keep doing it until this finishes itself. He's building up a lot of magic in his body now, magic I assume will close the gates of Hell, but right now, it's an open ended ritual with magic he is not designed to handle or fuel. There is nothing mundane medicine can do with the exception of palliative care. Making him comfortable.'' She explained when he just blinked at her.

''What about an angel or...?''

''You're not listening to me.'' She snapped. ''Unless they can outright remove the magic itself, all they can do is heal the damage, over and over again. He'll be better but he won't be _cured_.'' She thrust her hands into her hair. ''Do you have an angel you can trust?'' She added desperately.

Dean paused. Castiel still wasn't answering his calls and the guy was busy enough as it was. There wasn't another angel they trusted, most of them were still mad about the Apocalypse. He looked at Hermione who was staring at the floor and studiously not looking at him.

''Can you cure him?'' He asked in a rush.

She shook her head resolutely.

''No. Until you direct that ritual somewhere else, no one can cure him.''

Dean could feel his hands shaking so he clenched them into fists. He couldn't lose Sammy. Not again.

''Can...'' He started and she flinched.

''Don't!'' Hermione yelled, stepping away from him.

''Can you...?''

''Don't ask me.'' Hermione begged, bringing her palms up like she was trying to hold him off. ''Don't ask, please!''

''Can you help him?'' He breathed desperately.

Hermione shuddered and went still, her hands falling loosely by her sides.

''Dean.'' She whispered and he shivered. That was the first time she'd said his name. ''Please...'' She begged.

''Can you help him?'' Dean pressed, ignoring the torn look on her face.

''If I had any sense,'' She said quietly. ''I'd leave right now and not look back instead of staying here and signing my own death warrant.''

Dean froze, staring at her. She met his gaze with miserable eyes.

''...I can manage the deterioration.'' She said at last, sighing. ''It's not a cure all. I can hold off the organ damage, which will help with the fatigue, keep him active until this is finished. I'll see what I can manage for the rest.''

She held out her hand and a small bottle flew out of the pocket of her coat. Her fingers closed around it and she offered it to him. ''This _is_ a quick cure-all, it won't work miracles but it'll get him up and about. I'm going to need to brew something more specific and that will take time.'' She jabbed Sam with her wand. ''He'll wake up for a bit soon. Give him all of that, don't mix it with anything and then let him sleep. He needs his rest.''

''Thank you,'' Dean murmured as she moved towards the door, lifting her coat up from the chair it was slung over.

''Don't thank me.'' She whispered. ''I shouldn't stay and when they come for me, and believe me, they are coming, they won't hesitate to take you down as well. You're as dead as I am.''

* * *

Dean forced the mixture down Sam's throat as soon as his brother was halfway awake and then watched nervously as Sam's skin literally changed colour from grey to his normal pink.

''What the hell, Dean?'' Sam spluttered, coughing.

Dean grimaced, shoving the empty bottle in his pocket.

''Nothing, Sammy. Get some rest, it's like three am.''

He left his brother behind, swearing and punching his pillow and went to find Hermione. She was sitting on the floor of an empty store room, items spread out around her across the floor. There were bottles of strange coloured liquids and jars full of...well Dean didn't want to know, dried bunches of herbs tied together with twine. It looked like she'd raided one of those New Age hippy shops.

''Hey.'' He called.

She looked up at him, looking resigned and unhappy.

''How's Sam?'' She asked and sounded like she genuinely cared.

''Better.'' Dean leaned against the door frame. ''What is all this stuff?''

''Potions ingredients.'' Hermione murmured. ''Whenever I got caught, I'd do my best to take thing's from people's stores. A lot of this is rather dangerous.'' She tapped something with her wand and a cauldron expanded from nowhere. Hermione hung it from the tripod in front of her. ''I need to light a fire.'' She asked, not looking at him. ''Is that okay?''

Dean's breath caught in his throat and he fought with the urge to say '' _Hell no_ '' before reminding himself that this was for Sammy.

''Won't you burn the whole place down?'' He managed roughly.

One corner of her mouth curled into a small smirk.

''No.''

Dean breathed in deeply and waved her on. Hermione emptied a jar of what looked like...tiny eyeballs, onto the floor and pointed her wand into it, muttering under her breath. A small ball of flames flickered into existence, and Hermione slipped the jar beneath the cauldron. Nervous, but still curious, Dean moved closer, frowning.

''What's the fuel?'' He asked, staring at the tiny flames.

''Magic, mostly.'' Hermione murmured, adding ingredients to her cauldron. ''Physics doesn't really apply to what I do. Why are you afraid of fire?'' She added and Dean flinched.

''I'm not.'' He denied immediately and she snorted quietly. ''I'm not it's just...Our house was burned down by a demon when I was a kid. Took my mom with it. And then the same thing happened to Sam's girlfriend when he was in college. We finally find a safe place to call home and...'' Hermione nodded, one arm stretched out as she stirred the cauldron with a metal rod. Dean caught a glimpse of the scar on her forearm, the one she kept hidden, and moved closer. ''What about you? You got parents?''

Hermione froze for a moment before shaking her head.

''Not any more.'' she told him, hoarsely. ''I did. I packed them off to Australia when I was a teenager. Thought I was keeping them safe.''

Dean sat on the floor, just to her right and frowned.

''What, they just left you behind?'' That wasn't something family _did._

''They didn't know they had a daughter.'' Hermione breathed, glancing at him with wary eyes. She began to grind up what looked like snail shells in a mortar. ''I wiped their memories.''

''You can do that?'' Dean asked nervously.

She nodded silently.

''Why?'' He demanded.

''Because I thought they would be better off not remembering me. I thought no one would bother them there. I was wrong.'' She added, unnecessarily. ''I was wrong about a lot of things.'' She dumped the crushed shells into the cauldron and Dean finally read what was written on her arm.

''What's a mudblood?'' He asked bluntly.

Hermione didn't flinch, just look faintly annoyed, which was about as much emotion as she ever showed.

''Some one born to a normal family with magical powers. Me, in other words.''

She'd said they'd been fighting about blood...

''And what...? People don't like that?''

''Something along those lines. And before you ask,'' Hermione added, turning to glower at him. ''I was eighteen. It was the first time I was caught and no, it will never heal.'' she turned back to the cauldron and ignored him.

* * *

''Hey kid.'' Dean greeted, sliding a mug of coffee in front of the sleepy Prophet. Dean hadn't managed to get to sleep yet, he'd waited out the rest of the night watching Hermione make Sam's potion. He tried to tell himself it was to make sure she didn't poison Sam, but he didn't have a fucking clue what she was doing so how would he know anyway?

Kevin grunted.

''Urgh, you're like Sam.'' Dean complained and tried to ignore the stab of worry because Sam was still unconscious. ''What do you want for breakfast?''

Kevin mumbled something into his coffee which Dean was going to pretend sounded like eggs because that's what he wanted. The kid was more awake once Dean shoved food in front of him and actually managed to talk.

''How'd it go?'' Kevin yawned.

''Trial's done.'' Dean grunted. ''Sam's recovering. How was Hermione?''

Kevin stared at him with wide brown eyes.

''Can she talk?'' He asked bluntly.

Dean blinked.

''Yeah. If she likes you.'' He frowned. ''She didn't try to escape?''

''No.'' Kevin took a bite of his eggs. ''She kept bringing me coffee which was cool, I guess. Why've you got her locked up here?''

Dean snorted.

''Didn't know if we could trust her. Didn't want her to lead Crowley back here. Didn't actually know _what_ she was.''

''And you just kept her?'' Kevin demanded.

Dean grimaced and didn't answer.

* * *

''It needs to simmer for another hour.'' Hermione announced, appearing next to him and Dean jumped.

''Jeeze. Warn a guy, would you?'' He snapped.

Hermione shrugged.

''We need to talk.'' She announced. Dean noticed her wand was strapped to her arm with some kind of leather holster. She was holding herself differently, he noticed, with a confidence she hadn't had before. Dean waved at the other chair in the war room and she dropped into it neatly.

''I am not your prisoner.'' Hermione growled.

Dean nodded.

''Yeah, I got that.''

''I am doing you a favour and I am helping you despite the risk to my own life.'' She added, glaring at him.

''I know.'' And a large part of Dean, the part that had raised Sam, the part that had sold his soul for his baby brother...didn't care. If it was for Sammy, any cost was worth it.

''Which means you show me the way out.'' Hermione demanded.

Dean hesitated.

''Yeah.'' He said eventually. ''Yeah, okay.''

Dean led her upstairs to the main door of the Bunker. He unlocked it and swung the heavy iron door open, wincing as it creaked on its hinges. The road outside was littered with brown leaves, but was otherwise quiet, the warm heat of a Kansas afternoon wafting through the door.

Hermione paused on the threshold and swallowed loudly, looking longingly at the road.

''Where do your wards end?'' She asked roughly.

Dean blinked.

''Our what?''

''Wards?'' She looked at him. ''You have anti-apparition wards here. It's why I couldn't escape.''

''We do?'' Dean shrugged. ''This isn't our place, we're just gate crashing. The Men of Letters, the guys who built this thing, they protected it against all kinds of crap. I gotta wonder how they knew about you lot.''

''It is unusual.'' She agreed, pulling out her wand. Dean went still and she glanced at him, looking faintly amused. ''I'm not going to attack you. I just want to see how far the wards go.'' She flicked her wand and muttered something Dean didn't understand. Red sparks shot out the end of her wand, moved for about three feet and then vanished as they hit a barrier where there was seemingly only thin air.

Hermione rolled her eyes and took a single step out the door and into the sunshine. Her hair glinted in the light, strands of gold showing up in the softbrown.

''Typical.'' She muttered.

''What?''

She took another step and drew a line in the leaves with her bare foot.

''When was this place built?'' She asked.

''Fifties?'' Dean frowned. ''Not sure. Why?''

Hermione snorted.

''Smokers porch.'' She told him and he frowned at her. ''They've extended the wards beyond the limit of the building. That's tricky to do but there was a fashion for it when smoking was still commonplace, for those who wanted to be outside but still safe. That,'' She nudged at the line with her toe. ''Is the limit. I step over that and there's nothing protecting me.''

''Protecting you?'' He stepped up next to her. ''Like how this place stops demons and angels findin' us?''

''Mmm. The wards here are masking my magic, making me difficult to track...at close range anyway.'' She turned to stare at him. ''They can probably narrow it down to the nearest state.''

''So they know where you are?'' Dean rasped, staring at her.

''Hardly,'' Hermione murmured. ''The spell...curse would be more accurate is centred in on my blood. Last time I...'' She shuddered. ''They took about a pint, just in case. Whenever I use my magic... _ping_. Like a radar device and they get a little bit closer every time.'' She fixed him with a glare. ''Before I met you, I hadn't done magic in six months.''

Which explained, Dean realised, why she'd looked like a runaway. Without her fancy magic to help her, she'd have been just as trapped as anyone else. And now she was risking her life to save his brother.

''Shit.'' Dean breathed.

''Quite.'' Hermione stretched her arms over her head and several of her back bones snapped back into place. ''I should have the potion ready by lunchtime but that's the easy part.''

''It is?'' Dean asked weakly.

''Mm. You've got to convince your brother to actually drink in.'' She smirked at him and wandered back inside.

* * *

Sam, when he finally woke up, threw a fit about taking the potions, about listening to his big brother, about the fact there was _still_ a witch in their house, that Dean wasn't consulting him about _anything_ and then somehow, and Dean wasn't sure how, they ended up arguing about Dad and Sam going to Stanford.

Eventually Dean gave him an ultimatum. If he could land a solid punch on Dean he didn't need the potions.

Sam was sprawled across the floor in under ten seconds.

Man mountains, even ones as clumsy as Sam, aren't meant to fall over that easily, so Sam gave in.

''What will this do to me?'' Sam asked, turning the vial over in his hand. The potion inside was electric blue and had to be taken daily with a meal.

''Hermione says its like a healing potion...'' Dean shrugged, ''Apparently it'll hold off the organ failure.''

''I don't have organ failure.'' Sam complained weakly.

''Just take it and find out. If it makes you better, great. If I doesn't, I'll put a bullet in her head.'' Dean bargained and, scowling, Sam popped the cork with his thumb and downed the entire bottle.

The brothers stared at each other suspiciously for several seconds before Sam started to glow.

''Sammy!'' Dean started, stepping towards him, but Sam hiccuped twice, shook his head like a dog and the burped.

''How do you feel?'' Dean asked cautiously.

Sam sneezed and shrugged.

''Weird. Like...sorta tingly?'' He shrugged. ''Kinda hungry, actually. We got anything to eat?''

Dean let out a long breath and nodded, smiling in relief.

''Yeah, yeah we do.''

* * *

Dean had been looking after his brother for a long time and some habits died hard which is why a confused Sam was dropped in front of the TV with a bowl of stew and a blanket round his shoulders.

''Dude, you know I'm not twelve any more?'' Sam asked, wriggling out of the blanket. ''Right?''

Dean paused and realised he had genuinely been wondering what channel '' _Thundercats_ '' was on.

''Er...Shut up.''

Sam shrugged and started watching a documentary about whales at which point Dean left to find Hermione.

''How is he?'' She asked when he appeared in the doorway.

''Hungry.'' Dean let that sink in and felt some of the weight lift off his shoulders. ''He's eating again, which is good, right?''

''The more he eats, the more energy he has at his disposal.'' Hermione agreed. She was sitting cross legged on her bed, her coat spread out across her lap. Dean made sure to keep his feet on his side of the doorway.

''How many will he need?''

''Potions?'' Hermione shrugged. ''That depends on when the next trial is. However the longer he takes them the more damage will be done to his body. They'll become less effective and I'll have to come up with a different course of treatment. I told you this isn't a cure, it's just a fix.''

''Yeah, I know.'' Dean paused and Hermione sighed.

''Go on,'' She murmured, rummaging in one pocket. ''Ask.''

''Where are the rest of you?'' He blurted.

''The rest of who?'' Hermione asked?''

''The rest of your...I dunno, warriors?''

''We weren't...'' She gritted her teeth. ''We weren't warriors. You have to understand that. I was a school girl when I ended up in the War. Barely sixteen and I was in fights to the death. Half the Army never even finished high school. The rest were the elderly, teachers, office workers, sports players. Only a very small number of us were actually professionals. I knew a bloke once,'' She sniffed. ''Well...what was left of him at that point. He'd spent his career putting away dark wizards and he had the scars to prove it. One wooden leg and a false eye which followed you around the room. He was...'' She snorted. ''Not to speak ill of the dead, but he was a paranoid old git and make no mistake. But _he_ was a professional Auror. If you needed someone to watch your back Mad-Eye was the one because chances were he'd accuse you of being a traitor three times before the mission was over but he'd still bring you home again.''

Dean smiled faintly, think back to Bobby.

''I knew a guy like that.''

''Tough as old shoe leather and twice as stubborn?'' Hermione asked and he nodded. ''Mm. We lost Moody early on in the War, when we were transporting the Chosen One.''

''The Chosen One?'' Dean asked.

She shrugged.

''Not important. My point is, despite what your little angel might have told you, I'm not a warrior. I wanted to be a Healer or a lawyer or something brilliant where I could change the world and make a difference.'' She laughed bitterly. ''I was a naive little girl.''

''I wanted to be a mechanic.'' Dean told her quietly and she looked at him in surprise.

''Why weren't you?''

''Like you said, didn't get a choice. My dad wanted me to be a hunter so...'' He waved a hand over himself. ''Here I am. Kinda wonder how my life might have turned out if I hadn't listened to him.''

''It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.'' Hermione said softly.

Dean blinked at her.

''Who said that?''

''An old coot.'' Hermione mumbled crossly, before looking annoyed with herself and muttering ''Who we are all very grateful for, yes I know Ronald.'' under her breath.

''There's food, if you want it.'' Dean offered and Hermione set her coat aside with a sigh and followed him to the kitchen.

* * *

Over the next few days Sam began to improve. He wasn't anywhere near where he should be, but he was keeping his food down and the trash wasn't full of bloody tissues any more. Dean kept a close eye on him, whilst they waited for Kevin to decode the final Trial. Hermione spent a lot of time sitting outside the Bunker, wand resting on her knee as she scanned the tree line for something she seemed certain was coming. Dean joined her occasionally, leaning against the concrete and listening to the birds in the trees.

''What happened to your father?''

Dean sighed and tipped his head to the side, watching her. She didn't look at him, too busy staring out at the trees.

''He made a deal with a demon. Saved my life and the demon took his.'' He swallowed, looking at the slight crows feet around her eyes and the grim set to her mouth.

''What had happened to you?''

''Car accident.''

There was quiet for a long time before Hermione said.

''For what it's worth...I'm sorry for your loss.''

Dean shifted so he was slightly closer to her.

''I'm sorry for yours.''

* * *

''What will they do if they catch you?'' Dean asked later.

Hermione made an odd noise in her throat.

''Why do you care?'' She hissed.

''It's my fault if they catch you while you're looking after Sammy.'' Dean murmured.

Hermione let out a racked sob.

''I'm the last figure head of the resistance.'' She shuddered. ''Either my head goes on display in the middle of London for all to see or I'm passed from Death Eater to Death Eater until what's left of my soul gives out. I'm dead either way.''

Dean stared at her.

''Really?''

''Really.'' She went back to staring at the trees.

''Doesn't that piss you off?'' Dean demanded. ''Hell, do you even care?''

''At this point?'' She shrugged coldly. ''No, not really.''

''You'll be dead!'' Dean snapped. ''And...''

''And it'll be about time.'' Hermione murmured. ''There is no more fight left in me.''

''What about your resistance?''

''What resistance?'' She laughed bitterly. ''They are all gone. All of them. I am the _only_ one left and the Dark...? The Dark has won. No use fighting it now.''

''But...''

''Oh please, I'm not a Saviour. I know Saviours. We had one and they cut off his head for all to see. So you'll forgive me for being a little fatalistic.'' She spat and Dean flinched. ''I have nothing left except empty vows I made a long time ago. I have no leads, there are no weaknesses, there is just me and I'm nothing at all anymore.''

''They why are you staying? Why do you even care?'' Dean asked, confused.

''I've got a patient.'' Hermione murmured. ''I made a vow as a Healer to look after the sick and injured and I'll look after him for as long as it is sensible to do so.''

* * *

''Er...Hi?'' Sam waved awkwardly at Hermione who just looked at him, the beginning of a frown around her eyes. Dean watched them from the sofa as his brother shifted his weight from foot to foot. ''Look, I just wanted to say...'' Sam shoved a hand through his hair. ''Thanks, I guess. You didn't have to help and...''

Hermione closed her book with a snap and stormed off.

Sam sighed heavily and dropped into a chair looking like a kicked puppy.

''Did I piss her off?'' He asked sadly.

''Well...'' Dean murmured. ''Pretty much everything does so it wasn't your fault.''

Hermione reappeared in the doorway, a large pair of silver scissors held in her hand. Dean tensed automatically, but she didn't even look at him, busy dragging another chair in front of Sam and passing him the scissors. She sat down with her back to the confused hunter and fixed her eyes on Dean.

''Uh...'' Sam managed.

''Just make it even.'' Hermione whispered and Sam dropped the scissors with a loud clatter.

''Holy crap, I forgot you could talk.'' Sam breathed, staring at his brother with wide eyes. Dean snickered as Sam picked the scissors up from the floor sheepishly.

''Why does everyone think you're mute?'' He asked her, grinning.

Hermione shrugged looking pale and Dean sobered, watching her. She reached back and undid the strip of cloth holding her curls away from her face and shook them out, the uneven strands hitting different places on her back.

''Make it even?'' Sam repeated dumbly. ''You want me to cut your hair?''

Hermione pursed her lips and nodded, not taking her eyes off Dean. His eyes caught on the scar on her neck, the one that looked like she'd been held at knife point. He wondered how much it was costing her to trust Sam at her back with what was basically a lethal weapon.

''Okay.'' Sam shoved his chair back and nodded. ''Okay. I can do that.''

It took Sam about twenty minutes to get it all straight and Hermione was a wreck by the end of it, shaking violently in her seat. She sprang up as soon as Sam set down the scissors and ran from the room.

Sam stared after her, massive forehead wrinkled.

''I'm sorry.'' He said, mostly to Dean. ''I didn't mean...''

''It's not you.'' Dean put down his phone and got to his feet. ''I'll be back in a bit, okay?''

* * *

Hermione was in her room, sitting on the edge of her bed and breathing deeply.

''You didn't have to do that.'' Dean murmured. ''You don't need to put yourself through stuff...''

''I can't afford...'' She broke off as suddenly as she'd spoken, clapping her hands across her mouth. Dean almost stepped over the boundary to her room, but paused, stuck in the doorway.

''Can't afford, what?'' He asked. ''To be human? To let yourself...''

''To be broken.'' Hermione spat. ''I can't afford to be broken. I can't let them win that too.''

Dean gaped at her.

''You're not broken.'' She winced and didn't look at him. ''No. Listen to me!'' Dean snapped and her head jerked up. ''You ain't broken. Yeah, you're fucked up and you've got a shit ton of issues and frankly I can't blame you. But you're not broken.'' Dean swallowed. ''And they didn't win either.'' He added. ''You're still alive, right? You're still free. You've been fighting these guys since you were what...eighteen?'' She shrugged. ''Either they _really_ suck at being bad guys or you're a hell of a lot stronger than you think.''

Hermione stared at him with slightly red eyes, before getting up very quickly and crossing to the doorway.

''Thank you.'' She whispered and Dean flushed.

''Can't thank me if its true.'' He murmured and then choked as Hermione stepped forward and hugged him gently. Very carefully, Dean wrapped his arms around her back.

''But still...'' She stepped back, brown eyes serious. ''Thank you.''

* * *

Dean tapped his thumb off the casing of his phone several times, debating whether or not to call. There had been reports of demons on the look out, apparently Crowley was pissed off because they'd moved Kevin again. A little more life around the Bunker wouldn't hurt and it would take some of the research load off Sam and...

Dean stopped making excuses to himself and hit call.

The phone rang seven times and then a bright voice yelled,

''Sup' bitch?''

And Dean laughed because the whole fuckin' world was going to shit, his brother was dying, he had a witch living two door down from him and a Prophet of the Lord passed out on the war room table, but Charlie was still as awesome as ever.

''Dean...?'' Charlie was saying. ''Hello, earth to the pod person!''

He took a deep breath and managed to stop laughing before either Hermione or Sam came to see what was going on. Kevin probably didn't care.

''Hey Charlie.''

Charlie hummed.

''What do you need?''

''I can't call just to see how you are?'' Dean teased.

''I'm fine.'' Charlie squeaked, sounding suspicious. ''Really fine. Completely fine, nothing to worry about...'' She paused. ''Well, that was a big hole.'' she murmured reflectively.

'' _Are_ you okay?'' Dean asked, now slightly worried. Sometimes he felt like he was big brother to half the frickin' world.

''Yes?''She offered before changing the subject. ''What did you want again?''

''Right.'' Dean scowled. ''I need a favour.''

''What sorta favour?'' Charlie asked suspiciously.

''I need you to do a supply run down to Kansas. Me and Sam, we've got a Batcave and we need some stuff.''

There was a pause.

''Is it underground?'' She asked shrewdly.

''Yes.''

''Does it have bats?''

Dean rolled his eyes.

''It has a dungeon.'' He offered.

''Good enough! What do you need?''

Quickly Dean recited the list of stuff he'd come up with and listened to Charlie typing it out.

''Anything else?''

Dean checked to make sure no one was nearby.

''Yeah. We've got someone staying with us. She from England and she's got...like no belongings that aren't patched in seven different places. You think you can pick up some basics for her?''

Charlie clacked away at her keyboard for a moment.

''What kinda size is she?''

'''Bout your size, pretty skinny...maybe a bit shorter than you.''

''She cute?'' Charlie asked cheekily and Dean groaned. This was why he didn't have a sister.

''Can you get that or not?'' He grumbled.

Charlie laughed.

''Someone's avoiding the question.'' She singsonged. ''But yeah sure. Text me the address?'' She hung up without waiting for an answer and Dean groaned.

That might have been a mistake.

* * *

Charlie walked into the library with Dean a day later and screamed.

"NERFHERDER!"

Hermione threw herself backwards, scrabbling for her wand as Dean leapt between them.

"Charlie, it's okay!"

"THAT'S HERMIONE GRANGER!"Charlie shrieked.

Hermione pressed herself against the wall, wand aimed at the red head's chest.

Dean frowned, stepping closer to Hermione.

"How the hell do you know that?" He demanded.

Charlie stared at him, eyes wide.

"She's on every wanted list there is, Dean!"

Behind him, Hermione flinched.

"She is?" He turned. "You are?"

"I didn't do it." Hermione retorted defensively, wand lowered slightly. Dean hoped that was because she wasn't going to hurt Charlie, not just because she was just afraid to hit him.

''Dean, she's a terrorist!'' Charlie wailed, dropping her bags onto the nearest table.

The hunter groaned.

''Okay, just chill for a second. Hermione, put your damn wand away!'' Dean added, annoyed. For a moment Hermione just glared at him with narrowed eyes, before she nodded and slipped the wand into her sleeve. ''Charlie, she's been helping us. She's a good person.''

''She's wanted for murder!'' Charlie yelled. ''And...''

''Charlie!'' Dean barked.

Charlie squeaked, blurted ''She blew up a castle.'' and then shut up.

Dean paused.

''Look, Hermione's fine. I trust her. She's help...Did you really blow up a castle?''

Hermione began to look slightly shifty.

''There wasn't anyone inside.'' She muttered and Dean just stared at her.

''You are such a bad ass.'' Charlie breathed and Dean groaned as he realised she'd moved from fear to awe in less than a second.

''Besides,'' Hermione added, moving slowly towards the door. ''One man's terrorist is another woman's freedom fighter.''

''And it's not like me and Sam aren't wanted in ten different states anyway.'' Dean frowned at Charlie. ''You done freakin' out?''

''Yep.'' The redhead snatched up her bags again and crossed to Hermione. ''Hey, I'm Charlie Bradbury. Dean said you needed some stuff and I figured he's a guy so...'' She handed over a bag and Hermione took it cautiously. Charlie moved so Dean couldn't see over her shoulder and jumped up and down on the spot whilst Hermione looked.

The witch closed the bag and looked at Charlie gratefully. Charlie beamed at her.

''Thought so. Also...Deano said you were from across the pond, which, FYI, awesome, so I got you this.'' She pulled a box of tea out of another bag and presented it to Hermione proudly.

The witch took the box and cradled it against her chest, looking desperately from Dean to Charlie and back again. Dean folded his arms and shrugged. He wasn't going to save her from Hurricane Charlie.

''Uh...Thank you.'' Hermione breathed. ''And I'm Hermione. Whatever you've heard about me is probably...'' She cut off suddenly as a door slammed shut and Sam lumbered in, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Charlie dropped her bags and took a flying leap at him.

By the time Dean had managed to pick Sam and Charlie up again Hermione was gone.

* * *

''So...'' Charlie drawled, legs hanging off the side of her chair. ''Hermione Granger.''

''No.'' Dean snapped, lifting his book slightly higher.

''You've got one of the world's most wanted in your secret bunker and...''

''No.''

''What's she doing here anyway?'' Charlie continued.

Dean winced.

''She saved my life.'' He muttered.

''So you asked her to team up..?''

''So I locked her in a cell.'' Dean sighed.

Charlie ripped the book out of his hands and dropped it onto the floor.

''WTF?'' She demanded and Dean blinked at her. ''What the fuck? Dude, you're old.''

''Shut up.'' Dean pushed at her shoulder so she wasn't completely in his face and shrugged. ''We thought she was a bad guy. Then we thought she might lead the bad guys to us and now...she can't leave because she's fixing Sam.''

''And you feel guilty.'' Charlie replied seriously. ''How're you doing, Dean? Honestly?''

''Charlie...''

''Look,'' Dean did and grimaced. ''I don't know what's been happening since Moondoor but you and Sam look like hell. He's sick and you look exhausted and...''

''We're trying to save the world.'' Dean finished for her. ''It's a full time job, kiddo. Not my fault if I'm stressed.''

Charlie sighed.

''There's stressed and then there's this. Dean, I care about you guys and something is seriously wrong here and little miss terrorist is right in the middle of it.''

''She's not,'' Dean argued. ''It's been like this for a while, nothing to do with her.''

''Uh huh. I brought box sets.'' Charlie chirped suddenly and Dean blinked at her. ''I feel like binge watching.''

* * *

Sam was asleep. He needed about eight hours a night now, instead of his usual four, so Dean let him rest. Kevin had passed out on his bed and Dean had had to take the kid's trainers off for him. He paused in the corridor outside Hermione's room and knocked on the door.

''Hey Hermione? Charlie brought DVD's to watch if you wanna join us?''

There was a pause and then the door swung open by itself. Hermione frowned at him from the other side of the room, a mug balanced on her knee.

''How did you...?'' Dean asked, frowning as Hermione asked,

''What's a DVD?''

Dean blinked.

''Seriously?''

She swallowed nervously but got to her feet without spilling the mug.

''It's like a...'' He floundered. ''Er...I dunno. Come and find out, I guess?''

* * *

Dean dropped the warm bowl of popcorn on to the table and smiled to himself. The TV was showing the title screen on some show Charlie insisted they watch, but no one had gotten around to hitting play yet. But that was because an enthusiastic Charlie was explaining the history of the DVD to Hermione, who looked completely overwhelmed.

''So essentially,'' She said quietly, interrupting Charlie's highly detailed rant. ''It's a video cassette.''

Charlie twitched violently and Hermione laughed.

It was a short laugh and it sounded rusty as though she'd forgotten how to do it properly, but it counted. Dean almost tripped over.

''How'd you know about videos but not DVD's?'' Dean asked, looking around for a place to sit. Charlie had wedged herself into an armchair, holding the remote in her hand like a sceptre.

''I had some when I was little. Mostly Disney. I watched Alice in Wonderland so many times the tape got thin and didn't play properly.''

Dean gave in and sat down next to Hermione on the sofa.

''And what?'' Charlie demanded, horrified. ''You haven't been near technology since?''

''Essentially...?'' Hermione offered, smiling faintly. ''No.''

''What about movies?'' Charlie wailed. ''You've seen the Lord of the Rings trilogy, right?''

''They made them into films?'' Hermione asked innocently. ''I didn't know. The last thing I saw at the pictures was...'' She thought about it for a moment. ''Aladdin.'' She decided. ''My mother took me to see it.''

Charlie googled something on her phone.

''That came out in 1992!'' She shrieked.

''That sounds about right.'' Hermione agreed, frowning slightly at the wall like she was trying to remember. ''I was thirteen.''

Dean did some quick counting.

''So you're the same age as me.'' He decided. Hermione shrugged. ''When's your birthday?''

''September 19th.'' Dean and Hermione stared at Charlie, who winced. ''It's...uh...on her arrest warrant. I memorise useless information! Anyway,'' She raised the remote. ''Enough of your utterly horrific experiences.'' Hermione's jaw dropped as Charlie pressed play. ''This is Game of Thrones and you _have_ to watch it!''

* * *

Somewhere in the middle of intrigue and murder and incest, Hermione relaxed properly, shifting so she was sitting close enough that Dean could feel her body heat through his shirt. Charlie, surprisingly, shut up as soon as the show started. Dean could feel her stare switching from the screen to the sofa every five minutes.

Hermione would wince occasionally at the more grisly scenes and blush outright at the nudity on screen. She didn't laugh again but she seemed to be enjoying herself.

Charlie called it a night at around two thirty, leaving with an obvious wink for Dean and a wave for Hermione.

''So...'' Dean fumbled for a topic that wouldn't be awkward. ''You like Charlie?''

Hermione smiled faintly.

''She's...sweet.'' She murmured and Dean nodded. ''And very kind and very nice. How on earth is she friends with you?''

''Hey!'' Dean grinned at her. ''I can be nice.''

Hermione rolled her eyes.

''Yeah, yeah. Very funny.'' He muttered. ''Charlie's great.'' He added. ''She's kinda like the little sister I never wanted.''

''I used to have the same problem,'' Hermione whispered. ''Only with brothers.'' She swallowed loudly. ''You know, it's sweet?''

''What is?''

Hermione smiled at the floor.

''She thinks the most horrific thing that ever happened to me is not seeing a film. It's refreshing, that kind of naïvety.'' Hermione paused, frowning slightly. ''Forced or otherwise.'' She added.

Dean winced. He was glad he wasn't the only one who'd picked up on the fact that Charlie was hiding something dark in her past. If the false identities and the hacking weren't enough, the fact that Winchesters didn't attract normal people definitely was. Every friend Dean had ever had had been screwed in the head somehow.

''You watched Disney movies as a kid?'' He asked suddenly.

Hermione paused before nodding slowly.

''I spent a lot of time reading,'' She murmured. ''But my parents used to watch films with me on Saturday evenings. Although I think my father got rather sick of Alice.''

Dean groaned.

''Batman.'' He complain. ''You know the really old Batman series from like the sixties, with Adam West?''

''Vaguely.''

''We had a copy of the movie on tape, I picked it up somewhere for a dollar. Sam watched it constantly, like I mean the kid could quote it in his sleep, used to drive me insane. But kept him quiet so...'' He shrugged and didn't mention that it was the only tape they'd had. It'd got lost somewhere on the road a long time ago.

''I liked Beauty and the Beast.'' Hermione told him. ''I only saw it once, it came out when I was twelve and I saw it in the cinema at Christmas. But then I liked any story with magic in it.''

''Well, you're a witch...''

''I didn't know that until I was eleven.'' Hermione interrupted. ''Before that I was just a lonely little girl who could do very strange things like levitate books and frequently set fire to curtains. For a brief period when I was nine, I thought I was an alien and I'd been stranded with human parents.'' Dean laughed and she hummed in agreement, settling back against the sofa again.

''Aliens aren't real.'' He teased.

''Well,'' Hermione murmured ruefully. ''It was better than when I was eight when I was convinced I was a changeling left by fairies and went wandering in Epping Forest on my own.''

''Seriously?'' Dean spluttered.

''Mm. My parents were furious.'' She shifted, lifting her feet off the ground and tucking them under herself. ''They were furious about a lot of things.'' She added thoughtfully.

''How come?''

Hermione grimaced.

''When I was eleven a woman turned up on my doorstep and told me that I was a witch. Next thing I knew I was removed from mundane society and taken away to boarding school.'' Hermione sighed sadly. ''I didn't see much of my parents after that. The Chosen One needed me and then there was a war and...Now they're gone.'' She rubbed at her eyes and grimaced.

''What would have happened if you hadn't gone?'' Dean asked quietly.

She seemed to think about it for a moment.

''I wouldn't have seen eighteen.'' She decided and Dean winced. ''A witch as powerful as I am...I wouldn't have passed under the radar at all. The only difference is that I wouldn't have known how to defend myself.''

''Do you regret it?''

''No.'' She said instantly, meeting his eyes easily. ''Even now, even after everything...I don't regret stepping into that world. I only resent everything it took from me.''

Dean thought about Sam and how he'd never regretted Stanford or being normal or falling in love with Jessica.

''You take the bad with the good.''

''No matter how rare it is.'' Hermione agreed. She got to her feet slowly. ''Goodnight, Dean.''

Dean watched her pad from the room and sighed heavily.

''Night Hermione.''

* * *

The next morning Charlie brought up a hunt near by and the table froze. Sam put down his morning potion and folded his arms staring at his brother. Dean did the same at the other end of the table and Charlie, Kevin and Hermione sat between them looking nervous. Or Charlie and Kevin did. Hermione just looked bemused.

''Go on,'' Sam challenged. ''Say I can't go.''

''You can't go.'' Dean bit out.

''Dean, I'm fine! I can go on a hunt. We haven't got any leads on the third trial and...''

''And you're still not going.''

''Why not?''

''Sam, just because you're better, doesn't mean you're fit to hunt?''

''What and you are?'' Sam snapped.

Dean ignored the ache in several bones and the exhaustion hanging around his body.

''Yeah. Besides someone needs to watch the Prophet.''

''I'm nineteen!'' Kevin whined.

''Hermione can do it!'' Sam replied waving one hand at the witch, whose eyes widened in surprise. Apparently no one had told her that Sam cooking breakfast for her was a sign of friendship.

''Shut up, Kevin.'' Dean said quickly. ''You forget the whole reason Hermione's here is because she's keeping you _alive_. And you want to go on a hunt?''

''Dean, the only reason she's here at all is because _you_ kidnapped her.'' Sam retaliated.

''I didn't...'' Dean trailed off. ''You're not going.'' He repeated.

''You can't go on your own.'' Sam argued, attempting to be reasonable.

''I can go with him.'' Charlie suggested brightly.

''No!'' Dean snapped. ''Sam, I'm thirty three, I can hunt alone.''

''But I've been on hunts before...''

''Dean, you know hunting alone is a bad ide...'' Sam cut off suddenly as both he and Dean turned to glare at Charlie, who shrank back in her seat. ''You've been hunting!''

''No?'' She squeaked.

Kevin snickered into his coffee cup.

''Charlie...'' Dean warned.

''Oh, come on.'' She scowled. ''It was just a vamp nest.''

''Just a vamp nest?'' Dean yelled.

''Or two?'' She bit her lip. ''I'm sorry, Dean! I just...''

''If she can hunt vamps, I can go with you to look at these deaths.'' Sam announced suddenly.

Dean realised Hermione was smirking into her mug and tapped at her ankle with his foot.

''Sam, what if...?''

''Why don't you ask Hermione?'' Sam added. ''She's the doctor. If she says I'm fit enough then I can go.''

The table turned to stare at Hermione who raised an eyebrow and set her tea down carefully, one hand moving under the table.

''You want to know if he's combat ready?'' She asked Dean.

Kevin jumped, not used to hearing her speak.

''Yeah...''

A dagger appeared out thin air, flying towards Sam. Kevin screamed and Sam ducked, the blade flying straight through the space where his head had been and hitting the wall behind him, vanishing into smoke.

''He's fine.'' Hermione murmured, picking up her mug again.

Slowly Dean unclenched his jaw and relaxed from his position of half lunged across the table, ready to help his brother.

''Don't do that again.'' He begged.

* * *

''You coulda been more help in there.'' Dean complained to the witch hovering in his doorway.

''I've had that argument dozens of times.'' Hermione replied. ''It's best just to let them go instead of following on anyway and getting themselves killed.''

Dean snorted and tried to focus on tying his tie.

''He'll be fine.'' She added quietly and Dean closed his eyes.

''And what if he's not?''

She shrugged.

''Then you deal with that as it comes. You can't keep him locked up in here,'' She added. ''He'll have to leave at some point, for the trial if nothing else.''

''Surprisingly that's ain't comforting.'' He picked up his duffle bag. ''You gonna be okay watching Kevin?'' Dean asked, wondering when she'd become a part of their routine.

''We'll be fine.'' She stepped back to let him into the corridor. ''Just...'' She winced. ''Be careful.''

Dean blinked, before flushing slightly.

'Always am, sweetheart.''

* * *

They finished the hunt, but the djjin almost got the best of Charlie, trapping her in her worst nightmare. Dean wasn't surprised when she left the Bunker as soon as they got back to it, although she did stop to say goodbye to Hermione. The red head had promised to stay close to Lawrence in case they needed her and swore that she'd keep in touch.

Dean sighed as he closed the heavy iron door, bolting it tightly. He hated it when civilians got into hunting and he hated to see a girl like Charlie end up disillusioned. Hermione met him at the foot of the stairs, dressed in her own clothes for once, a knitted jumper which had frayed cuffs on over her jeans.

''You guys been okay?'' He murmured. They'd been away for over two days hunting and he'd been...anxious to get back home.

Hermione shrugged.

''Kevin managed to eat three meals yesterday. And he took a shower.''

''And you?'' Dean pressed.

''I also ate three meals.'' Hermione agreed.

Dean rolled his eyes.

''No, are you okay?''

She did a double take, frowning at him.

''I'm fine. You're bruised.''

Dean grimaced and touched the bruise on his jaw with a finger.

''Yeah, Sammy tried to knock me out. Took him a few goes...What are you doing?''

Hermione stepped closer to him and raised her wand.

''Stand still.'' She breathed and Dean froze. The tip of her wand touched his cheek and warmth spread out along the bruise, like someone had put a hot towel against his face. ''There,'' She whispered, removing the stick, watching Dean flex his jaw. ''All better.''

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **Hey, sorry this took so long. It's been a bit of a stubborn one. Still, I hope you liked it.**_

 _ **Special thanks go to: Leonamasha, Jade Ice Fire, Bleuboxes, Chris7100 [I liked that. Minimally functional human], MarinaSilvus, InkWoven, meldz, BrightStar and everyone else who left a review.**_

 _ **Please let me know what you think of this one**_

 _ **Hood**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Trigger warning: This chapter contains mention of rape, self-harm, torture and suicide.**_

* * *

The poster glared at Dean from the wall of the gas station.

It was an old picture, or at least not recent. The woman who glowered at the camera with a devil-may-care smirk, lacked the scars he knew so well, long hair held back in a messy braid. That smirk twisted her pretty face into something dangerous, something cocky, something that, even after everything Dean's been through, would make him think twice about taking her on.

It was her eyes which really bothered him. They were defiant and angry and so fucking alive it was like looking at a completely different woman. In comparison the witch he knew was all but dead. Just a walking corpse waiting for the end.

 **WANTED!** The poster screamed. **HERMIONE GRANGER!**

The changes listed underneath made Dean grimace. Murder, he didn't doubt, although it was probably more like self defence. He wasn't sure what treason was, but terrorism tied in with what Charlie had told him. Hermione was probably right though. Terrorists were just freedom fighters. Just depended on what side you were on.

He ripped it off the wall and walked away.

* * *

''I think we need to talk.''

Hermione jerked, almost knocking over her mug as Dean waved the poster in front of her face. She frowned as she took in the picture before wincing.

''If it helps,'' She murmured. ''I haven't done most of those things _recently_.''

''Not funny.'' Dean barked. ''Who the hell is after you?''

She pushed the poster away from her face and sighed.

''Why wouldn't you let me go?'' She asked. It seemed to be rhetoric so Dean didn't bother answering. ''They've tracked me this far,'' She looked up at him with a sigh. ''It won't take them long to work out I'm staying with you.''

Dean scowled.

''So what do we do? How do we beat them?''

Hermione tilted her head to the side.

''Why would you want to?'' She asked, apparently confused. ''Dean, they won't bother you as long as you let me go without any fuss.''

Dean pretended to think about it.

''I let you go, just how far will you get before they catch you?''

She flinched.

''Far enough.'' She breathed. ''I won't let you and Sam get hurt because of me.''

Dean blinked in amazement. When was the last time someone actually tried to protect him and his brother?

''How far?'' He demanded.

''The city limits.'' She breathed. ''No further, I imagine. If they're close enough to be putting up posters then they probably got a large number of people in the area. At this close range they can track me...Like I told you, they've got some of my blood stored. I can't apparate without them detecting it. My magic is, essentially, useless. I'm trapped. Inside the wards and with three highly vulnerable muggles stuck in here with me.'' She sighed heavily.

''Shit.'' Dean breathed, before trying to get a grip on the situation. ''They don't know you're with me. They don't know where the Bunker is. Unless someone knows you're with me they can't find us, right?''

Hermione shrugged.

''The wards prevent that much, yes. They can tell if I use my magic, but that won't tell them much more than that I'm in a certain vicinity.''

''But if you do leave..they'll be on you in minutes, right?''

She nodded.

''So you don't leave.'' Hermione glared at him. ''No, I mean it. You stay here until we can work out a way to help you.''

Hermione stilled.

''I can't stay here.'' She snapped angrily. ''What if they find me? Do you _know_ what they'd do to you, just because you sheltered me?''

''Kill us?'' Dean grinned bitterly. ''Done that. Doesn't seem to stick.''

Hermione snarled at him.

''You're impossible!'' She snapped. ''You don't get it. Everyone who was ever kind to me is _gone_. Everyone. I will not bring that down on you and Sam. So I'll take my belongings and I'll make a run for it, thank you very much.''

''And what will they do to you?'' Dean demanded, shouting now. ''They catch you, what the fuck will they do to you?''

''I told you!'' Hermione hissed. ''I am dead. I knew that when I agreed to save your brother's life, I knew it when I stepped in to save yours! I don't matter any more!''

Dean stumbled and stared at her.

''Bullshit.'' He spat and she blinked at him. ''Of course you fuckin' matter. What you think just because all your friends are dead that no one cares about you?''

''Yes!'' She shrieked.

''Newsflash,'' Dean roared back. They were both standing now, the coffee table in between them as they screamed at each other. ''We care about you. _I_ care about you.'' Hermione gaped at him, eyes wide, as the snarl fell away from her face. ''So you're not gonna go down like a fuckin' soldier. You're going to let me help!''

Hermione caught herself and went straight back to being angry.

''Help?'' She snorted derisively. ''What can you possibly do to _help?_ They are everywhere and to them? You're just another muggle.''

''That just means they're gonna real surprised when I kick their ass!'' Dean growled.

Hermione moved suddenly, drawing her wand and aiming squarely at his chest. Dean narrowed his eyes at her.

''You forget,'' She hissed, ''I'm not just some human, Winchester. I can take your memories and be gone from your life before you even realise something's missing.''

''And what about Sam?'' Dean asked, glaring at her. Hermione's flinched. ''He's as good as dead without you!''

There was a soft click from the doorway and they turned to see Sam staring at the pair of them, his handgun aimed straight at Hermione.

''What's going on?'' He demanded breathlessly.

Dean turned back to Hermione, who was visibly wavering.

''Now,'' He said slowly. ''I don't know about you but I don't think you're gonna hurt the guy you've spent two weeks piecing back together, are you? What happens if we take him off the potions?''

''I wouldn't leave you without any!'' Hermione denied, not lowering her wand.

''You really think he'd take them if he didn't remember who you are?'' Dean took a step towards her, ignoring Sam's noise of protest. ''He'll get worse, won't he?''

Hermione looked like she was at war with herself.

''Please...'' She breathed. ''Just let me go. I don't want you to get hurt. I've lost enough people I...'' She stopped suddenly and Dean froze.

''No.'' He ordered. ''You're staying.''

''Dean...'' Sam protested from the doorway and Dean realised he'd stepped between them, blocking Sam's shot.

''It's fine, Sammy. She's not gonna hurt me. Are you?'' He added and Hermione shuddered, knuckles white around the slim piece of wood.

''Fuck you.'' She hissed and Dean smirked. ''Just let me leave!''

''No!'' Dean shouted back.

''Why not?'' Hermione screamed and several lights shattered. ''Why do you even _care_?''

''Because it's my fault!'' Dean roared and everyone froze. Hermione's wand dropped back down to her side and she stared at him.

''What?'' She breathed.

Dean paced angrily, kicking out at the bits of furniture he passed, struggling to control his temper.

''Look,'' He bit out. ''If I hadn't kidnapped you or made you help Sammy, they would never have caught up with you. So yeah, I frickin' care that I've ruined your life just like I've done to everyone else who's ever gotten close to me!''

There was a gasp from Sam but Hermione didn't respond. Her lips thinned into a grim line and she glared up at Dean.

''Sam,'' She said quietly. ''Leave.''

''But...''

''I'm not going to hurt him.'' She promised, not taking her eyes away from Dean's. He wasn't sure he believed her. ''Why don't you go check on Kevin? He needs to eat lunch.''

''Dean...'' Sam protested angrily.

''Go, Sammy.'' Dean snapped.

Hermione waited until Sam had stomped off down the corridor before moving. She sheathed her wand, tightening the leather holster as she stepped closer to Dean. She shifted her weight onto her heels and then punched him in the face.

Dean reeled backwards, hands automatically going up to check the wound. He's got enough experience to know that...yeah, she's broken his nose.

''Fuck!'' He spat, trying to keep the blood out of his mouth. ''What was that for?''

''Being a moron.'' Hermione hissed. ''This _isn't_ your fault. I didn't have to stay and help Sam. My Healer's Oath only encourages me to help, it doesn't force me. I stayed because...'' She choked to a stop. ''Because I _wanted_ to help. That isn't your fault.''

''Well it's not your fault either!'' Dean retorted crossly.

Hermione paused and Dean, sensing he hand the upper hand for once, kept going.

''None of this is your fault.''

''Dean,'' Hermione dead panned and Dean did his best not to shiver when she said his name. ''Everyone who was ever kind to me is dead.''

''Yeah and how many of them were just standing up for what they believed in?'' Dean demanded. ''How many of them were targets anyway? How many of them would let you blame yourself for their deaths?''

''Dean, I led people into massacres!'' Hermione hissed. ''People died under my command...''

''And they knew what they were getting themselves into!'' Dean growled. ''War sucks and people die. Anyone who goes into it not believing that is just askin' to be killed. It ain't about heroes, it's about doing your darn best to make sure you get to the other end and if you go down, you take as many of those fuckers down with you as you can. I'm willing to bet those guys who died knew what they were going in to. It wasn't your damn fault and you _don't_ deserve to die because of it!''

The end of his shout echoed around the room as Hermione stared at him, looking like he'd knocked the air out of her lungs.

''Look,'' Dean breathed thickly, wiping his nose on his sleeve. ''I care about what happens to you. I actually give a crap. So let me help. Even if it's just hiding you here until the heat wears off.'' He shouldn't be saying this, Dean wasn't an idiot. He's got Sammy and the Trials and a Prophet to hide. He doesn't need another damn burden to make his life harder. But hell, if this is a burden he doesn't mind carrying. She was still staring at him in confusion. ''What?'' He asked quietly. ''So hard to believe someone actually cares about you?''

For a long moment she didn't say anything, but her expression softened slightly.

''Come here.'' Hermione sighed eventually, drawing her wand.

Dean hesitated and she smirked faintly.

''You trust me with your brother but not with your face?'' She teased.

''Hey, I'm a handsome son of a bitch.'' Dean grinned at her. It probably wasn't as charming as he'd intended. Most of his face was covered in blood.

'' _Episky_.'' His nose snapped back into position with a crunch and Dean swore. ''Well I've got bad news.'' Hermione murmured, frowning slightly.

''What?'' Dean asked warily.

''You look exactly the same as you did before I punched you.'' She pretended to look mournful. ''I am truly sorry I couldn't improve things.''

For a moment Dean just stared at her and then he grinned.

''You have a terrible sense of humour.''

Her lips twitched into a smile.

''I don't know what you're talking about.'' She murmured.

* * *

''Charlie says the posters have gone up state wide.'' Dean told her, shoving his phone in his pocket. ''Not just Lebanon. You were right. They know you're here, they just don't know where. She's going to call in a bunch of anonymous sightings, see if she can't direct them further away.''

Hermione hummed, frowning at her wanted poster.

''What?'' Dean asked nervously.

''There's something...'' She traced a fingertip down one edge of the poster. ''I wonder.'' She pulled her wand out of its holster and tapped the paper gently. '' _Veritem_.'' She breathed and the poster rippled like it had gotten caught in a breeze. Hermione's wand dropped to the floor and she sucked in a breath so fast, Dean worried she was going to faint. He moved closer and looked over her shoulder. The wanted poster had changed, the wanted headline had replaced itself.

 **LONG LIVE THE WOLF QUEEN.**

The witch stilled and let out a noise that was ninety pain and ten percent laughter.

''Oh Merlin.'' She sobbed.

''What the hell?'' Dean asked.

''It's propaganda.'' She swiped at her eyes. ''Someone wants to make sure that I'm not forgotten. He's going to get himself killed.'' She added sadly and Dean frowned, sitting down on the armrest of her chair.

''Who is?''

''Blaise.'' She gestured to the poster. ''This is his work. He's the only one with printing presses now that the Moon's gone. They must have asked him to make up the posters and he bewitched the master copy to do this. When you duplicate the master, you duplicate any magic on it too. We used to do it to pass messages along.''

''Blaise a friend of yours?'' Dean asked. Hermione shifted slightly so the barest bit of her weight was leaning against Dean.

''Not...not really.'' She coughed. ''He was...neutral, I suppose you could call him. His mother was famous for marrying her way through rich men. They had a habit of dying and leaving her with everything. Mrs Zabini didn't care much for blood, more for power or money and several of her past husbands had been muggleborns like me. When the Dark rose for the second time, several followers took a dislike to her practises and they killed her. Must have been...'' She squinted at the poster. ''Six years ago now? Blaise has been helping us ever since. He doesn't give a crap about blood or politics, but he does care rather a lot about family. Losing his mother and the Dragon was the last straw.''

She sighed staring down at the poster.

''This proves it.'' Dean said at last.

Hermione looked at him.

''Proves what?''

''Someone gives a damn what happens to you.''

She paused and then laughed quietly to herself before smiling at him gently.

''I thought we already established that someone did.'' She murmured.

Dean flushed.

* * *

''We had a Chosen One, a hero'' Hermione started slowly. It was just the two of them, sitting on one of the sofas in the Bunker a day later. Dean had grabbed a new bottle of Scotch from the kitchen and cracked it open. Hermione had drunk straight from it before starting. ''He was...he was my best friend.'' She sighed. ''When we were eleven we all went to this school. Most of them were purebloods or halfbloods, people who'd grown up in that world. The rest of us were completely new to it. We knew nothing. Eventually a war came around. I'd been fighting and having...adventures, I suppose you'd call it, since I was eleven and it was obvious that when the war came looking for the Chosen One, they'd find me standing at his side where I always was. However when I was seventeen we lost the Leader of the Light, a great and powerful wizard. There was no one left to protect us so we went on the run. The Chosen One was Undesirable No. 1, I was No. 2. It took us a year, the three of us, to get anywhere close to a chance at taking down the Dark Lord...The bad guy,'' She clarified for Dean. ''And in that time a lot of things went wrong. He took over the government and the school. People were tried for having magic that they had been born with, people were snatched from their homes, killed senselessly. We lost hundreds in the space of a year and in a population the size of ours...'' She sighed heavily. ''And it all came down to one fight, the Light and the Dark and we...'' She took a large swig from the bottle without wincing and Dean was reluctantly impressed. ''You know in the stories when the hero makes a sacrifice?''

Dean paused and for a moment thought about sacrificing his soul for Sam, about Sam sacrificing himself for the world, about Sam doing it _again_.

''Yeah.'' He managed. Hermione looked up at him and winced and Dean realised she knew exactly how he felt watching his brother kill himself for the good of the world.

''The hero had to die.'' She continued. ''That was the price. The Chosen One must fall only...only he was supposed to come back. The Chosen One carried a piece of the Dark Lord's soul inside of him, he always had. And that, that little piece of soul was supposed to be destroyed and he was supposed to come back. Only...surviving a Killing curse is one thing.'' Her voice became tight and bitter. ''Surviving decapitation is quite another.''

''Shit.'' Dean breathed.

Hermione let out a low rumbling snarl that made the hair on the back of Dean's neck stand up on end.

''Mm.'' She said at last, letting out a long slow breath and taking most of her anger with it. ''Anyway. We rallied after that. There's nothing like the death of a hero to get people on your side and they brought us his head as a trophy. We won that battle and the Death Eaters fled. They'd already expanded across into Europe so that's where they went to rally their forces. And of course we didn't have a leader any more, there was no one to guide us. So the five of us left...we began to plan things out. We still had a snake to kill, a Dark Lord to defeat. Things needed to be done, the war wasn't over.''

''The five of you?''

She nodded.

''The Moon, the Knight, the Fox, the King and me.''

''What were you, superheroes?'' Dean asked, sarcastic.

For an instant Hermione smiled.

''The names were safer. It gave us some protection and eventually, they became a necessity. Anyway after the Battle things settled slightly. I went into Healer training, we did our best to get some form of government set up, strengthen our borders and so on. They didn't come back and they didn't come back and we got complacent and we settled and then they _did_.'' She settled back against the sofa, pulling her legs up in front of her. Dean turned slightly so he could keep watching her. ''The first time we'd known they were taking over. This time...they moved like shadows in the dark,'' She breathed hollowly. ''We didn't know they were there, we didn't know they were coming and by the time we did...It was too late. The first I knew about it I was being arrested at work, by the time I understood what was going on, it was useless. I got free and warned the others and then it was like the War had never ended. Only this time...You had to choose a side and ours didn't have a hero any more. The general populace...those that had the choice at least, sided with the Dark.'' She sighed heavily. ''I don't blame them.''

''What happened then?'' Dean asked gruffly.

''Then began the very long process of being wiped from the Earth.'' She got up. ''Wait here a moment, would you?''

Dean nodded, kicking off his boots and shifting so he was sitting against the other armrest and waited for her. She came back soon enough, a bundle of papers clutched tightly in her hand. She paused for a moment before taking her seat back, mirroring Dean, the tips of her toes brushing his.

''People fled.'' She started again and Dean breathed out a sigh. ''You have to understand that the magical community had problems. Infertility was the main one, Purebloods had made themselves a dying breed with their unwillingness to marry into new bloodlines. So any witch with at least one magical parent became a valuable commodity.''

Dean's mouth dried in horror.

''You mean...''

She grimaced at him.

''We were sold off like cattle for breeding stock.'' She shifted again so she was sitting properly on the sofa and gestured for him to do the same. Once he'd moved she held out a picture. It was of a group of teenagers standing together and smiling brightly. Some of them waved and Dean flinched.

''Is that...''

''It's a magical photograph.'' She muttered, before pointing a set of Indian twins. ''The Patels. Padma and Parvati. Nice girls, I used to share a dormitory with Parvati. When the war started up again they fled back to India where they had family. Or they tried to. They were caught in Dover and they sold to the highest bidder with their wands stripped from them. Parvati slit her own wrists the moment they left her alone. Rumour is Padma waited until she was pregnant with an heir, stole the bastards wand and took him, his brother and the baby with her.'' Hermione smirked coldly. ''You've got to give her credit in some ways.''

''That's sick.'' Dean breathed. He looked down at the photograph. Dead centre was a trio, a boy with messy black hair and glasses, a red haired boy who was grinning inanely and Hermione. She looked different as a teenager, but not unrecognisable. What was worse was that she looked happy. ''Who're your friends?'' He asked.

She let out a laugh that was really more of a sob.

''The Chosen One,'' She pointed to the dark haired boy who waved sheepishly. ''The King,'' She pointed to the red head. ''And me.''

''What about the Knight and the Moon?''

There was a nervous looking boy who was still slightly chubby on the edge of the photograph. He blushed when Hermione pointed him out.

''That's the Knight,'' She murmured and then pointed to a small blonde who was staring at nothing in particular. ''And that's the Moon.'' The Moon was an ethereal looking girl who reminded Dean of a fairy. Waist length blonde hair hung around a pale face with an expression which stared straight out of the picture. She was smiling and gently twirling on the spot. She looked disturbingly like Cas'.

''How many of these people are still alive?'' Dean asked hoarsely. There were nearly fifty people in the picture, all in their teens, all happy looking.

Hermione sighed.

''To the best of my knowledge?'' She shrugged. ''Just me. We lost Fox not long after the Chosen One.'' She pointed to a smirking red head girl. ''She'd been his girlfriend and she was doing a raid. They brought down the building with her inside. Her entire family is gone now,'' Hermione added mournfully. ''They were her brothers.'' She murmured, pointing to the King and a set of twins who were beaming from the back of the picture.

Slowly Hermione worked her way through the people and photographs. She would stumble over a codename occasionally like she was trying hard not to say something else. Sometimes she had to stop of think about a particular death, frowning her way through hundreds of grisly details to try and remember the specific ones. About half died in battle, others died of curses or injuries weeks later, others were given public executions, others were tortured until they took their own lives. A lot of the women, witches, Hermione called them, but Dean couldn't really compute that because in these pictures they were just _girls...s_ ome of them were caught, dragged screaming off the battlefield for a fate that made Hermione look sick to talk about and made Dean's stomach, normally impossible to upset, turn unhappily.

Entire bloodlines wiped out, families, children...just _gone._

''What about the Moon?'' Dean asked, staring at the last picture in the pile. The girl was leaning against a tree, bare feet buried in the fallen leaves. She seemed to be staring at a patch of air.

Hermione let out a broken sob.

''She got caught. We were...We were raiding the Ministry. There was this book.'' She spoke fast like she was trying to get the words out as quickly as possible so she didn't have to think about what she was saying. ''That would automatically register any magical child in Britain. Just because the Death Eaters were wiping out every muggleborn they could find, didn't mean they weren't being born. In fact more were being born than ever. Originally you have maybe twenty muggleborns per generation. Now we were looking at a hundred. A hundred and fifty. A year. We used to theorize that the magic was rebelling against the culling, doing its best to keep the magical population alive. With all those new bloodlines, we would have had a viable population. Not that it matters now. Either way...this book recorded the locations of these children, where they were living. Every time a new muggleborn used their magic for the first time, the name and address would appear in the book. And a squad would be sent out. We'd get there far to late and find the entire family or orphanage tortured and slaughtered.'' She sighed. ''So we raided the Ministry. It was not long after we lost the King and I...I wasn't in the best frame of mine to be leading an attack. Twenty of us. We got to the book and destroyed it. It was old magic, irreplaceable and now completely useless.'' She looked proud for a moment before she continued. ''Of course, getting in was the easy part, getting out...that was where the problems started. It turned into a slaughter. Civilians got caught in the crossfire. Most of my men were injured by the time I resorted to using Battle Magic.''

''What...?'' Dean started to ask.

''Battle Magic is for...war essentially. It's destructive and hard to control and _powerful_.'' She hissed through her teeth. ''Most of it is completely beyond our reach, modern day magic is too different. But I've always had a gift for fire.'' She smiled, feral, and Dean shuddered.

''What did you do?'' He breathed.

''I burned them to ashes where they stood.'' She didn't hesitate and turned to glare at him. He knew what she was looking for. She's looking for him to say she's a monster, a murderer. And yeah. Four years ago? He'd have done just that. But now, after Hell and after Purgatory. He honestly can't blame her.

''Good.'' He said and she blinked at him before she nodded.

''We got out. Wasn't until we got back to our base that we realised the Moon was missing.'' Dean shifted so they were leaning against each other. ''They strung her up in the Atrium of the Ministry for all to see. She was a pureblood, but no one dared taint their blood line with her. She was considered insane by most people. She hung there for five days. Sometimes Death Eaters would get bored and torture her for everyone to see. But...she...she just wouldn't _die_.'' Hermione sobbed. ''So I crept back into the Ministry and...there was no way to save her. She was surrounded by guards, the place was full of Death Eaters. I couldn't fight my way out with her. So I...'' Tears streaked down her face. ''I put her out of her misery and then I set her alight so they couldn't desecrate her body any more than they already had. And then I just _left_.'' Hermione broke down and Dean gave in, wrapping his arms around her shoulders as she sobbed into his shirt.

He wondered if this was the first time she'd actually let herself grieve.

* * *

''I needed you to know.'' She told him later, brown eyes watching him seriously. ''I needed you to know what will happen to you if they find me here. To you and Sam and Kevin.''

Dean scrubbed at the frying pan, scowling. She told him about curses that did things that took Dean years to learn in Hell with a simple spell.

''It'd be worth it.'' He muttered and she sighed.

''What about Sam and Kevin?''

Dean handed her the pan and she started drying it. Sam was out of the Bunker doing a supply run, which had set off an argument that ended with Sam yelling '' _Urgh_ , Dean I can go shopping on my own. Jeeze.'' like a teenager and storming out. Hermione had watched the entire thing with worried eyes, like she knew something Dean didn't.

Kevin was doing his mad genius thing and was probably surrounded by different bits of Demon Tablet translation.

''That's up to them.'' He said at last, reaching for the next pot. ''Kevin...the kid's just an innocent.''

Hermione made a broken noise in the back of her throat.

''They always are.''

''I guess.'' He frowned again. ''Hey, you've not got some kind of magic panic button I could use to keep him safe do you?''

The mug she was drying slipped from her hands and shattered on the floor as Hermione stared at him.

''Yes.'' She muttered, staring at him. ''Yes, I do.''

* * *

Dean handed her the two anti-possession charms he'd found in a closet and tapped the map.

''Washington?'' Hermione asked doubtfully.

''Yeah.'' Dean shrugged, scowling at the continental US. She'd asked him to find somewhere safe, where no one would try to kill them. That had taken some thought. But no one would look for them in Washington.

State, mind you. Not DC. Should stand for Demon Central.

''Anywhere particular in mind?'' She murmured, carefully cutting the state of Washington out of the map.

''Pick a large town. As long as its big enough Sam can take care of himself.''

Hermione hummed.

''You're aware your brother would probably appreciate being consulted about this?'' She took a large iron needle out of her bag and jabbed it into a town near the coast, before she threaded the charms onto the needle.

''Does it look like I give a crap?'' Dean grumbled.

Hermione didn't bother looking.

''Take it from someone who knows, miscommunication only leads to dissent in the ranks.'' She scratched at the scar on her arm absently. Dean batted her hand away and she scowled at him. ''Your brother is how old?'' She asked.

''Twenty nine.'' He muttered.

''The world won't end because you let him make his own decisions.''

Dean started to laugh. Bitterly.

''What?'' Hermione stared at him and Dean wiped at his eyes.

''Remind me to tell you that story sometime.''

Hermione rolled her eyes.

''Either way, you should talk to Sam about this. He'll need to know how to use them. Although my next question might be more of an issue.'' She folded her arms and glared at him. ''Why are there only two portkeys?''

Dean just raised an eyebrow and waited for her to get it.

''You're not staying behind.'' Hermione warned darkly. ''You've got people to look after, Dean. Dependants. I will not let you do that. Get me another charm.''

''I'm not leaving you to fight on your own.''

''I can look after myself fine.'' She snapped.

''Yeah, I don't doubt that sweetheart,'' He leaned against the table. ''But no matter how good you are, you're just one woman against...how many bad guys again?''

She scowled at him and then flicked her wand sharply.

'' _Accio_.'' She hissed and a button ripped off Dean's shirt and flew straight into the palm of her hand.

''Hey!''

She ignored him and threaded the button onto the needle with the charms.

''I need a password.''

Dean glared at her.

''Why?''

He was pretty certain she was smirking at him, but her hair had fallen forward so he couldn't see her face properly.

''These can't be time set and they need to work without my magic, so they need to be password set. Something that you won't say accidentally or overhear. They can be remarkably sensitive.''

He thought for a minute and then scribbled it down on the scrap of paper she handed him. She added that to the top of the needle, rested her wand on top of the pile and whispered, '' _Portus_.'' The charms shimmered blue and then went dull again, looking completely normal. Hermione removed the needle and passed the items to Dean. Both scraps of paper were now blank, he realised, like the ink had been absorbed.

''Say the password and they'll activate. Make sure you're wearing them though, otherwise they'll just transport themselves.''

Dean shoved them in his pocket and frowned at her.

''Why not use them yourself?''

''They can be followed.'' Hermione sighed. ''And they probably will be. The first thing they'll do upon following a portkey is scan for magical signatures, mine specifically. But they won't find any because you three don't have any magic. It's quite a good plan really.'' She murmured.

''Except for the part where it leaves you behind.'' Dean complained.

''Never happy, are you?'' She muttered idly.

The sound of boots on the iron stairs made Dean sigh and he turned to see Sam lugging grocery bags down the staircase.

''Hey!'' He called, grinning at Hermione, who sort of grimaced in Sam's general direction. ''I got you the stuff you asked for.'' He handed over a bag and then glared at Dean, who rolled his eyes. Sam's temper tantrums hadn't changed much since he was three and threw a box of lucky charms at Dean's head.

''Thank you.'' Hermione murmured, smiling briefly. Sam lit up like a fucking Christmas tree and then pouted at Dean triumphantly. So what? She could smile at whoever she liked.

''I'm gonna see if Kevin wants lunch.'' Dean muttered.

* * *

''What're you doing?'' Explaining the charms to Sam and Kevin had taken a bit of smart bullshitting, because Dean didn't actually know how the damn things worked. But they were all carrying them which was the important thing. Well, Sam and Kevin were...the button was on Dean's bedside table.

Hermione smirked.

''Nothing dangerous.'' She twisted the yarn around the needle and slipped the loop off.

''You really expect me to believe that?'' Dean asked, leaning against the bookshelf. She shrugged.

''What does it look like I'm doing?''

''Knitting.'' Dean admitted.

''Well then.''

He wondered if she'd always been this difficult or if it'd been a trait she'd learned over time like her defensiveness. The teenager in the photo propped up on the table was relaxed and happy, tucked under the arms of two boys.

''Yeah, but since when do international fugitives knit?''

''Everyone needs a hobby.'' She murmured. Her eyes flicked up to look at him and Dean smiled at the amusement there.

''Doesn't that normally need _two_ needles?''

The wooden needle clacked off her wand as she knitted. Whatever it was she was knitting it was quite big already, a dark blue colour that looked soft.

''Ah.'' She said. ''Well, I'm enthusing it with magic.''

''You doing hoodoo?'' Dean asked doubtfully.

Her nose wrinkled, tugging at the scar and she sighed.

''I'm practising hearth-magic.'' The witch corrected.

Dean settled himself in the armchair across from her and watched her work. Now that he was looking for it he could see the faint sparks sparking along the yarn as it passed over her wand.

''This doesn't look like your usual stuff.'' He murmured, frowning. The word that came to mind for this was ''gentle'' and that didn't fit anything he knew about Hermione.

''It isn't.'' She agreed. ''My repertoire is usually for battle magic, offensive spells, things that can help me survive. Tricky charms and spells. That's wizardry. It's showy and powerful and, ultimately dangerous. Witchcraft, which is what this is, is more subtle, but no less powerful. It's about potions or enchantments or healing. Magic that relies on the land or on your spirit. It's not much practised these days.'' She looked sad for a moment. ''But hearth-magic focuses around the home, hence its name. A lot of its to do with weaving or caring or rituals for good luck from the goddess.''

''You guys have a goddess?'' Dean blurted.

''Witches do.'' Hermione agreed. ''It's not something I practise myself. I'm Anglican.''

Dean looked at the witch and smirked.

''Really?''

''Yes. Twice a year attendance or more often if my mother was feeling guilty.''

Dean nodded in understanding.

''Anyway,'' She continued. ''This is used to enthuse garments or cloth with protection. Say you're making a set of trouser for a child. You reinforce the cloth so its harder for them to put the knees out. You make baby clothes extra soft so they don't annoy them, children's clothing that is resistance to stains. Shirts that don't crease. That sort of thing. It's mostly a dying art.''

He frowned and gave in, leaning forward to touch the yarn. It was as soft as it looked, knitted very loose so you could slip your fingers between the stitches.

''How'd you learn it then?''

''My mother-in-law taught me.'' Hermione murmured and Dean nearly fell off his chair.

''You're married?'' He spluttered.

She raised one eyebrow and looked at him.

''Problem?'' She asked idly.

''No.'' He grimaced and rubbed at his neck. ''Just took me by surprise. Didn't think you'd be the type to settle down.''

Hermione laughed quietly.

''I'm not. Can't afford to be even if I wanted to. And anyway we never got married.''

He froze but couldn't stop asking the question.

''What happened?''

Hermione sniffed and set down her knitting to rub at her eyes.

''I was in the middle of a war, Dean. What do you _think_ happened?'' Dean sighed. ''We'd had to postpone the wedding because I got arrested and war broke out again. We were determined that it wasn't going to stop us. We wouldn't let the Dark Lord take that last piece of happiness too. So we had the date set, in secret of course. And a week out from the wedding he didn't come back from patrol. Which wasn't unusual but...I _knew_ something was wrong. So we went out to look and we...there'd been a fight. He'd been patrolling with Irish and they were just gone.'' She choked. ''Course we found them a month later. Barely recognisable by that point, they must have been... tortured. They hung them from Westminster Bridge.'' She sighed, like she'd told this story a thousand times before and it couldn't hurt her any more. ''Picaso and I...we didn't take it well.'' Dean remembered a dark skinned boy from the picture who been grinning cockily at the camera. ''Irish had been his...You know, I never asked if they were together. They just _were_. So...she wasn't actually my mother-in-law, but she treated me like a daughter anyway.'' She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and picked up her knitting again.

Dean wandered over to the picture and stared at the teenagers, wondering which one he'd been.

''What was his name?''

''The King.'' Hermione breathed and Dean stared at the red haired boy with his arm slung around Hermione's shoulders.

''The King and the Wolf Queen?'' He murmured.

''That was the plan, yes.'' Her needles clacked.

''What're you knitting anyway?''

''A blanket. For Sam. It should help him sleep properly, keep the nightmares away.''

Dean paused, staring openly at her.

''Why?'' He breathed.

''He's your brother.'' She flicked a glance at him. ''And I want to help.''

* * *

There was a record shop in Lebanon which was run by an old hippy. He had a grey ponytail and wore protest t-shirts from almost thirty years ago. It had been Dean's first stop after he'd realised the Bunker had an old vinyl player tucked in the corner. The guy had told him about seeing Zepplin live and smoking weed in a teepee in some dark corner of the eighties. Eventually Dean had actually been able to buy some stuff and he'd spent an evening listening to the classics the way they were supposed to be heard. His worn tapes in the Impala didn't really rate.

The clack of Hermione's needles was starting to get to him, so he rummaged around his collection for something to listen to. She didn't really strike him as the type to listen to Metallica, but she _was_ British. The Beatles were probably Dean's best shot.

Hermione looked up as '' _Strawberry Fields_ '' scratched into life and smiled faintly at Dean. It was late at night, both Sam and Kevin had gone to bed an hour ago, so he kept the volume low. They hadn't been out on a hunt since the Charlie had been here the week before but Dean wasn't desperate to get back out there. Sam wasn't better but he was fine and Kevin still hadn't found anything on the third Trial. If it wasn't for the demons and insane wizards breathing down their necks...this would be as close to peaceful as Dean's gotten since he lived with Lisa.

''I went straight once.'' He said suddenly. ''Stopped hunting.''

Hermione hummed but didn't stop knitting so Dean kept going.

''Sam was dead, or at least I thought he was. Turned out people'd been lying to me about that one. And I met this woman. Settled down with her and her son.''

''Where's the tragedy?'' Hermione asked.

''Does it hurt being that cynical?'' Dean snarked.

She smirked at him and for a moment Dean could see the Devil-may-care woman from the poster.

''Keeps me alive.'' She teased. ''Besides you wouldn't be here if it had a happy ending.''

''Fair.'' He sipped at his coffee. ''I couldn't keep them safe and someone ended up targeting them. Got them free of course but I figured it would be better if they didn't know who I was. Maybe they'd never get hurt. I had Cas' wipe their memories.''

''Do you regret it?'' She murmured, counting the stitches.

He winced.

''No. No, I don't.''

She nodded, untangling her wool.

''We're all entitled to our little bit of normality.''

Dean snorted.

''You know, Sammy said the same thing once.''

''Well than I must be right.''

''Bullshit.'' Dean called, getting to his feet. ''You want a coffee?''

''Tea if there's the offer.'' Hermione murmured, not really paying attention. She'd been knitting most of the day and the blanket was about big enough to cover Sam's legs, which meant it was huge. Dean wondered how big it was going to get to cover his enormous brother.

''Whatever you say, Mary Poppins.''

Hermione let out a faint growl of annoyance which made Dean laugh as he headed towards the kitchen.

* * *

Dean handed her the mug and settled back in his own chair, pulling the book he'd been reading back into his lap. It took a moment for him to realise what had changed. Over the quiet sounds of Hermione knitting and '' _Lady Madonna_ '' playing, someone was singing quietly.

Hermione's lips moved in time with the music, barely making a sound as she sung along. Dean stared at her and eventually she looked up and froze.

''Didn't think this'd be your kind of thing?'' He asked quietly.

She shrugged.

''It's not the Hobgoblins, but it'll do.'' He blinked at her. ''Wizarding band.'' She explained easily, before sighing. ''My parents used to dance to the Beatles.'' She told him. ''They met at a Beatles tribute night in the Student Union when they were studying dentistry. My dad apparently did an appalling rendition of '' _I am the Walrus_ ''. Of course, he used to say my mum's version of '' _Let It Be_ '' could make a grown man beg. For her to stop that is.'' She smiled. ''Not a musical family, mine.''

''My mum used to sing '' _Hey Jude_ '' to us as a lullaby.'' Dean sat down his coffee, getting to his feet. He kicked the coffee table out of his way, sending skidding into the wall. Hermione eyed him warily as he stepped up to her chair.

''C'mon.'' He murmured holding out a hand.

Hermione put down her knitting and frowned at him.

''What?''

''Dance with me.''

Her mouth fell open and she gaped at him.

''Beg your pardon?''

''You heard me.'' Dean smirked, ''Besides...Don't I deserve a little bit of normal?''

For a moment she just stared at him.

''Wow.'' She drawled as she put her hand in his and let him pull her up. ''That was smooth.''

Dean shrugged, pulling her into the space he'd made on the floor.

''Hey, I can't let my good looks do all the talking?'' He practically heard her rolling her eyes. Well that and the soft '' _wanker_ '' she muttered under her breath.

''Oh, shut up.'' Dean teased and twirled her.

'' _Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on...hey!''_

'' _La la, how the life goes on_.'' Hermione sang quietly.

* * *

She was flitting between book shelves, rearranging things so they fitted some order that made no sense to anyone but her. Led Zepplin were playing quietly in the background and Dean was feeling... relaxed, half-asleep in an armchair, watching the witch carry large loads of books across the room, slotting them into the right spaces as she went. She stretched to reach the top shelf and the shirt she was wearing pulled up exposing her hip bone and Dean frowned, catching a glimpse of silver scar tissue.

Scars, on Hermione, were not uncommon, and she usually didn't seem to pay much attention to them. But Dean was curious, so he pushed himself to his feet and padded over to where she was frowning at a shelf above her head. It was a vicious scar over the curve of her hip bone and he froze in horror.

Dean wasn't an idiot. He knew bite marks when he saw them and _that_ one looked like she'd had an entire chunk of flesh ripped out by something large and with a lot of teeth.

Hermione had stilled when he'd moved and she'd tensed completely when he stood behind her, freezing with a book raised halfway above her head.

"What bit you?" He asked, trying to sound gentle. Trying not to sound nervous.

"Werewolf." She responded tightly.

Dean winced. The full moon was next week. Fuck, he didn't want to kill her.

"You infected?" He demanded roughly.

She shook her head, curls flying.

"Lycanthropy didn't take. They made sure it was outside of the full moon. Didn't want me to turn into something they couldn't control."

''How does that work?''

''We have a different strain. The magic mutates it.'' She sighed, eyeing him warily. ''They turn fully into giant wolves and the only way the curse is transmitted is through the bite.''

''But you've been bitten.''

''But not by a wolf.'' She scrubbed at her face. ''Fenrir Grayback was...'' Her lip curled. ''Scum. The scum of the earth and the Dark Lord forced his shift outside of the full moon. He wasn't contagious but because of the bite and the...'' She gestured at her face. ''Clawing, I got some...more lupine traits.''

''So...the growling?''

She glared at him.

''I do not growl.'' She snarled and Dean just stared at her until she flushed.

''So just the growling or...?''

''I'm a bit stronger than I might be otherwise. I prefer my steak raw although...'' She squinted at him. ''Honestly I couldn't tell you the last time I ate one. I'm not contagious, I'm not going to change. Please...''

''You spent the last full moon in the cells right?'' Dean murmured and she nodded. ''You coulda killed me any time I brought you food if you were going to. I believe you.'' He added and her shoulders dropped in relief.

One day, Dean swore to himself as he returned to his armchair, he's gonna find the son of a bitch that did this to his witch and make them wish they'd never been born.

Hang on a second.

When did she become _his_ witch?

* * *

Despite her assurances, Dean kept a careful watch on the calendar. She wasn't completely unaffected by the moon, he realised. In the days before the full moon, her eyes, usually a deep chestnut, warmed to a disturbing amber which seemed to glow faintly. Her reaction time increased and she spent more time around the Winchesters, apparently keen to have company, although she was usually a silent shadow in the back of the room, present but not participating. Sam took advantage of this and forced her into computer classes because he insisted that it was insane a person living in 2008 didn't know how to work one. But she spent more time with Dean researching or just sitting in the doorway of the Bunker, watching the world outside. she laughed more often and smiled occasionally, mostly at Dean. They finished the box sets Charlie had left with them and Dean leant her the Winchester Gospels which Hermione either found amusing or horrifying. It was hard to tell with her.

The night of the full moon however, she vanished. Concerned, Dean set off in search of her, combing the levels of the Bunker.

She was pacing restlessly in the lowest level and Dean settled on the foot of the staircase, watching her. Her fingers drummed on her thighs as she passed and small sparks fell from her hair as it blew behind her. Eventually she broke into a run, legs pumping as she sprinted down the corridor to the other, skidding to a stop at one end and tapping the wall before she turned and repeated the process. She didn't seem to be aware that he was there, Dean realised as she passed for the fifth time, the excess energy she was burning off her main priority.

That wasn't to say she was unguarded either, though. The weight she'd gained back under Dean's watch had been almost entirely converted into muscle and her shoulders, although still narrow, were tensed, her fists balled.

"You wanna fight?" Dean asked as she passed him again. Hermione spun gracefully on one foot, sharp eyes taking him in with a frown.

"What?" She demanded and holy crap if that wasn't the most emotion he'd heard from her in days.

"Fight. Get rid of some of that energy." He got to his feet and held out his hand. "You look like you're going crazy stuck down here."  
She glared at him as if to say " _and whose fault it that?_ ". Her hands shook as she watched him before eventually nodding slowly.

Dean tugged her upstairs to the wide storage room with the padded floor. He figured the Men of Letters had been in the process of converting it into a dojo. He left the door open and toed off his boots, leaving them in the corner. Hermione paced the floor, waiting for him. She stilled as he settled into an easy stance, her own limbs loose and easy. Dean wasn't fooled for a second.

"C'mon then, wolf chick!" He teased grinning.

Her eyes crinkled and Dean grinned as he spotted genuine _annoyance_ in her expression. He'd actually managed to piss her off.

"Don't call me _chick!"_ Hermione seethed and lunged for him.

Dean had the advantage of being larger, stronger and more experienced, but Hermione was fast and scrappy.

Dean took a shot to his kidneys before he even realised that she was behind him, but managed to dodge the kick to the back of his knees, catching her easily in the shoulder with his elbow.

...

This...

This was probably gonna hurt.

* * *

They fought for hours, until they were both shaking with exhaustion. One thing Dean had to give her, she did not give up. Ever.

Eventually Dean just flattened himself out on top of her, pinning the woman to floor as he gasped for breath. Underneath him Hermione went limp, curly hair almost matted to her forehead with sweat.

"Better?" Dean rasped once he'd got enough air in his lungs.

Hermione just sighed, closing her eyes, her energy finally exhausted. Dean gaped down at her, propping himself up on one arm. He was intensely aware that she was actually letting her guard down around him.

An embarrassed cough came from the doorway and Dean twisted to see Sam and Kevin smirking at him from the hallway.

"Busy?" Sam teased.

Dean flushed and clambered to his feet.

"What are you doin' here?" He asked roughly, holding out a hand for Hermione. It was more out of habit than anything else, so he almost fell over when a scar roughened hand slid into his and she allowed him to pull her up right.

"We thought someone was dying." Kevin stared at them, eyes wide.

Dean ruffled his hair, wincing as his fingers caught on a cut there.

"We were just...letting off some steam."

"I can see that." Sam snorted, doing his best to look morally superior. "I'm going to start breakfast so if you two are done doing...whatever the hell this is...there'll be food in a few." He turned to head for the kitchen.

"You might wanna take a shower." Kevin complained as they stepped closer. Dean scooped up one of his shoes and sent it flying at the Prophet's head, who squeaked and sped down the corridor after Sam. Dean sighed and turned back to Hermione, taking in her appearance. They were both bruised and sweaty, but Dean winced at the sight of the large purple mark blossoming across her cheekbone.

"Sorry about that." He added, gesturing at it.

Hermione shrugged.

"I've had worse." She murmured, and Dean sighed because he knew she had.

"I'm gonna hit the showers. You coming, wolf chick?"

The kick hit him in the back of the knee, which buckled automatically under him. He grinned up at her.

" _Don't_ call me that!" She seethed before storming off.

Dean threw back his head and laughed.

* * *

"This is embarrassing." Sam complained, sliding a plate in front of him.

Dean looked up at his brother, confused.

"I mean it's great and all. I'm really happy you've found someone but..." Sam gave a long suffering sigh as though Dean was the bane of his life, "I mean, seriously, Dean. Did it have to be the woman who's on the run from the entire world?"

Dean scowled and stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth.

"Sammy, I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

Sam glared at him, nose wrinkled.

"You like her." He accused.

"Who?"

"Hermione." Sam cried, throwing his hands up.

Dean shrugged.

"Well, yeah. She's a good..." He paused trying to find the right word.

"Prisoner?" Sam suggested, pouting. "Cause that's what she is, you know."

Dean glared at him.

"She's not a prisoner. She's my..."

"Friend?" Sam offered. "Really, Dean? Because last time I checked, we don't get to have friends. Remember?"

Annoyed, Dean snatched his plate off the table and headed for the door.

* * *

Hermione joined him on the sofa a few minutes later with her own plate of bacon and Dean wondered how she'd managed to bribe Sam into giving her that much, that raw.

''If you're squeamish you should probably not watch this. I've been informed this is a bit gross.'' She murmured.

Dean watched numbly as she quietly ate her plate of meat and thought maybe Sam had a point. He ate the rest of his breakfast.

* * *

''Okay, I gotta know.'' Dean announced, later. ''What's with the code names?''

Hermione chuckled, setting down her knitting. Dean wasn't sure what this project was, Sam's blanket had been finished the week before and his brother had taken to wearing it as a cape in the mornings. After that she'd made Kevin fingerless gloves to stop his hands aching from writing so much. This one was green and soft and the sparks she was weaving into it were a brilliant purple.

''I was wondering how long it would take you to ask.'' She murmured. Dean rolled his eyes and shifted closer. He tried to ignore the way she leant against him. They weren't talking about it and that was fine with him.

''It's old magic...very old. It was originally used by followers of the goddess. The witches' goddess that is. No one knows her name because it became taboo to speak it and...it's much easier to fear a being who's name you don't know. Names have power after all.'' Dean nodded. He knew that. ''Her followers sealed her name, which meant that anyone who spoke it aloud was quickly dealt with. After a few generations the name fell out of knowledge and now...thousands of years later? No one knows the first thing about her. Not even the few followers she has left now.'' Hermione hummed for a moment. ''The Dark Lord did something similar, he bound the name he went by but not, interestingly enough, his true name. If you are one of the few who know the name and I may be one of the few left on the Earth who does, and you are thick enough to actually say it...'' She breathed in a deep breath and then let it out. ''That's how this happened.'' She added, tapping the scar on her arm. Dean rubbed his thumb over the crooked letters and she grimaced. ''The Chosen One...He was angry and he lost his temper and he said the name. And the next thing I knew we were being chased through the woods by snatchers and then I was being tortured for information on the floor of the Dragon's Manor.''

Dean frowned, remembering a pale and worried looking blond from some of her more recent pictures.

''The Dragon? I thought he was on your side?''

''Not to begin with.'' She acknowledged. 'We were childhood enemies but eventually he became a spy for us until he was discovered. Anyway,'' She brushed that aside. ''We thought that was the extent of it and we worked around it. Addressed him as the Dark Lord or His Mouldiness or You-Know-Who. It wasn't until we after the battle where we lost the Chosen One that things became a problem. The Chosen One was dead, but we kept him alive through stories and propaganda. Every magical child was told stories about the Chosen One. Until people started dying. Houses would get raided, pubs attacked. We couldn't work out what was happening until we heard the Death Eaters calling him the Chosen One. We realised the name had been sealed.'' She grit her teeth loudly. ''They took his name away from us and turned it into a weapon.''

''Crap.'' Dean said. He couldn't think of anything else.

''Mm.'' She rubbed at her temples. ''After that, every time we lost someone, it became the first thing we did. We would seal their name so the Death Eaters couldn't. It became a mark of honour, a sign that you'd been one of us. People picked their code names, something people who knew them well would be able to identify with. Picaso was a brilliant artist. Irish was Irish.'' She tugged at her hair. ''Fox was quick with red hair. The Knight was especially noble.''

''And the Wolf Queen?'' He asked.

''It wasn't always that.'' She sighed. ''My fiancé came up with it. The Queen, the most powerful and dangerous piece on the chessboard. I killed Fenrir Grayback after my run in with him and to the wolves that followed him...that was confusing because I wasn't a werewolf, but I had just killed their leader. The King used to joke that that made me their queen. Hence...Wolf Queen.''

Dean frowned.

''So no one knows their names?''

''Very few.'' Hermione shrugged listlessly. ''The problem is...I don't know which names are sealed by me and which have been sealed by the Dark Lord. The magic isn't precise and I can't risk saying any of them in the interest of finding out. When...'' She paused and rolled her eyes at Dean's scowl. ''If, I die before the war ends...No one will _ever_ know their names.'' She smiled faintly. ''Sad really.''

''Oh, hell no.'' Dean got up, heading for the stack of legal pads Sam collected like candy. ''Screw that.''

''Dean...What're you...?'' She grabbed the paper and the pen he shoved at her. ''What am I supposed to do with this?'' Hermione demanded.

''Your gonna write down the names.'' She blinked at him. ''Say something does happen to you, those names...they should be remembered. You write down the names and what happened to them...and I'll add them to the archives.''

''Dean, that's too dangerous.'' Hermione protested.

Dean waved her off.

''Please, no one actually reads the damn things.''

''Then what's the point?'' She snapped, angrily.

Dean glared at her.

''The point is, in a hundred years time when all this is over. _Someone_ 's gotta know. Even if it is just a freaking archaeologist, someone's got to know. You won't be forgotten.'' Dean stared down at her. ''Why do you think the Winchester freakin' gospels are on the shelves here? Someday someone's gonna read them and everything me and Sam have done, everything we've been through. Someone will remember that. Same should go for you.''

She chewed her lip, uncertain.

''This is a terrible idea.'' She murmured.

''It's a great idea. Just...'' He sighed, running his hand through his finge. ''Say the revolution really does die with you. Which is just...whatever. Next generation, or the generation after that, there's gonna be some other smart as hell teenage girl with a hero complex who deserves to know whose footsteps she's following!''

For a long time Hermione just looked up at him. Then she huffed out a quiet laugh and nodded slowly.

''I don't have a hero complex.'' She murmured. ''And you'd better get me some tea. This might take a while.''

Dean backed away, grinning.

''Whatever you say, wolfie.''

Hermione sighed.

''I am going to kill you.'' She murmured.

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **Well this might have been a bit dark? Um, yeah. I hope you liked it, I hope it made sense, I hope it was actually as horrible as I intended it to be and didn't come off as though I was making light of it all. Er...**_

 _ **Please review and let me know what you think.**_

 _ **Also I know I don't usually put trigger warnings, but I felt I ought to in this case. I'd rather be safe than sorry.**_

 _ **Hood Out.**_


	5. Chapter 5

Dean and Hermione spent the rest of the day sleepily watching Netflixs in the TV room, curled up on the sofa together. Hermione has actually seen '' _Friends_ '' although she never saw past the sixth season, so they'd been watching sit-coms all day.

Dean was trying hard not to think about how much she trusted him now because she's dozing against his shoulder, sleeping off the effects of the full moon. She told him she'll be full of energy by the time it gets late again, but for now Dean's content.

Of course that's when everything went wrong.

"Dean!" Sam bellowed, voice rough. "There's someone outside." Dean and Hermione both startled upright, blinking back sleep in the way that only soldiers could. Sam added from somewhere above them. "I think they're here for Hermione!"

* * *

Dean could hear the shouting from through the thick iron door which sealed the Bunker. Sam was lurking on the other side looking worried.

"Hermione!" A man bellowed. ''Hermione Granger!''

''Go guard Kevin.'' Dean barked and for once Sam did as he was told.

He edged the door open, and trained his shotgun squarely on the man's chest.

"Drop the wand!" he barked and the man stiffened, raising the weapon instead of dropping it and staring at Dean. He was tall, with closely cropped fair hair and a broken nose. He wasn't as scarred as Hermione, although he had that same look in his eyes that said he wasn't going to go down easy.

"Who are you?" Dean demanded.

The man's eyes darted from Dean, to the gun and then to the large iron door.

"You're muggles?" He questioned.

"Yeah." Dean snapped. "And you're a friggin' wizard. So gimmie your name before I blow a hole in your head!"

The man hesitated for a long second, before lowering the wand slightly.

"Neville." He said slowly. "Neville Longbottom. I'm looking for a witch called Hermione Granger. She's my friend."

Dean fished out his phone, dialling Sam's number.

''Put her on.'' He demanded, before Sam could even get a word out. The phone was passed over.

''What's happ...''

Dean cut straight across her.

"We've got a situation. Man at the front door askin' for you."

Hermione paused for a moment.

"What's his name?" She breathed.

"Neville Longbottom." There was a harsh intake of breath. "Gimmie the word and I'll put a bullet in his head..." Dean offered.

"Don't!" Hermione begged. "I'll be right up...just don't let him leave."

He could hear her coming, bare feet pattering up the stairs behind him.

"Get out of the way, Dean!" She called, grabbing his shoulder roughly.

"What? Hell no..."

She sighed, drawing her own wand.  
"He's a wizard. Bullets aren't going to stop him." She slipped between him and the door and stood, wand raised, in front of the wizard. She was protecting him he realised unhappily.

"Neville." She said evenly.

The other man looked her over and seemed to relax before forcing his guard up again.

Dean scowled.

"This ain't how friends greet each other." He complained, shifting his stance so he had an unobstructed shot at the other man.

Hermione snorted.

"Believe me, Dean, it pays to be wary." She turned her attention back to Neville. "When did we first meet?"

Neville smiled almost fondly.

"On the train to Hogwarts. You helped me look for Trevor. You were the first friend I had." He sighed. "What was the last thing I said to you?"

Hermione snorted.

"'' _With any luck, we'll be safe by morning''._ You bastard.." She added, voice thick.

The next second both of them were moving as Neville lifted Hermione off her feet, hugging her tightly.

"I thought you were dead!" Hermione breathed.

Dean lowered his gun. Apparently he wasn't going to need it.

"Me?" Neville put her down to smile at her. "Only almost. The last I heard of you, you were ambushed in Cardiff."

''We were.'' She shrugged. ''I escaped.''

''Hermione,'' Dean called, eyeing the spray painted line she was on the wrong side of. ''Don't you need to be inside the wards?''

''Shit.'' She muttered, leaving the man and stepping back over the line.

Neville frowned at them.

''What's wrong?''

''Death Eaters. They're tracking me.'' Hermione explained.

The man nodded slowly and then rummaged in his pocket, pulling out a bottle. He tossed it to them and Hermione caught it on the tips of her fingers. There was roughly a pint of viscous red liquid, which shimmered like someone had added a bottle of glitter to it.

''Wait a second,'' Dean murmured, as Hermione stared at the bottle in her hands. ''Is that what I think it is?''

''It's blood.'' She breathed, turning it over in her hands. ''It's _my_ blood.'' She looked up at Neville. ''How...?''

He shrugged.

''We stormed their base nearby. I thought you might want that back.''

Hermione laughed softly to herself and Dean watched weight lift off her shoulders as she straightened up and, in a sudden violent move, drew her wand and tossed the blood high into the air.

'' _Evanesco_ _!_ '' She shouted and the spell caught the vial a bare two inches off the ground. It vanished into dust, leaving both Dean and Neville gaping at her.

''Nice to see you're not out of practise, Commander.'' Neville muttered just as Dean realised what had been bothering him.

''Hang on. Did you say '' _we_ ''?''

Hermione froze as she stared at the other wizard.

''You're not alone?'' She breathed.

The tree line on the other side of the road rustled and Dean drew up his gun automatically to aim at the kid stepping onto the blacktop. Only to have Hermione wrap her hands around the shotgun and yank. Hard.

Surprised, Dean let go and she tossed it to one side.

''Don't you ever,'' She snarled furiously, eyes glinting. _''Ever,_ pull a gun on him!''

She turned away and Dean got a better look at the kid.

He _was_ just a kid, about fifteen years old with curly red hair and bright amber eyes. He was lanky, like Sam had been before his shoulders had come in and he was wrapped in a threadbare cloak, wand gripped tightly in his hand.

''Teddy?'' Hermione breathed.

Dean realised who the kid looked like just the kid broke his silence and sprinted across the road into Hermione's arms with a loud shout of ''Mum!''. And Dean was left gaping at them as Hermione's knees buckled and they fell into a heap on the road. He could hear her crying into the kid's...her _son's_ shoulders as Teddy's hands grabbed at her back, holding on tight. Next to him Neville glanced into the trees nervously.

''We need to take this inside.'' He muttered. ''Commander!'' He barked and Hermione stiffened. She got to her feet, still with the kid tucked under her arm and nodded.

''Of course. Dean, this is Neville and Teddy. Do you mind if they come in?''

Dean hated himself for asking this question, but he's got Sam and Kevin to worry about and he knows for a fact she'll understand.

''Can we trust them?'' He demanded and Hermione paused to think about it.

''They won't hurt innocents.''

Dean blinked. He'd expected her to say that they were her friends or that they weren't dangerous. Instead she told him what he strongly suspected was the truth. They won't start it...but they might just finish it.

''C'mon.'' He muttered, scooping up the shotgun from where Hermione chucked it. ''We got food and stuff inside.''

* * *

Hermione hadn't moved more than five feet from the kid since she brought him inside and the kid, Teddy, didn't seem to mind, constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure she was still there. They all sat down around the main conference table in the Bunker and, after Sam waved his gun around for a bit, his brother had settled down and made everyone drinks. Kevin had stuck his head around the door to see what was going on, gone bug eyed at that many people and vanished again.

''So the tracking on you is gone?'' Sam asked, handing Hermione and Neville mugs of tea.

Hermione nodded, looking slightly shell shocked.

''That was the last of the blood. I've never dared to go after it myself because they'd see me coming before I'd even get close. Neville and Ted on the other hand...'' She paused, frowning slightly. Next to her Neville swallowed nervously. ''Neville?'' She breathed.

''Yes, Hermione?'' The man whispered, not lifting his eyes of the table.

Dean looked at Hermione and winced. Fuckin' Hell was she pissed off.

''Did you take my son into an active Death Eater encampment?'' She asked calmly. Dean, who was watching the knuckles on her hand turn white, wasn't fooled for a second. Neither was Neville, because he didn't dare lift his eyes, just hunched his shoulders. He didn't look like a freedom fighter now. He looked completely terrified.

''Yes.'' He muttered.

Something cracked and next to Dean, Teddy swore under his breath.

Hermione went very still and then exploded.

''WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE YOU THINKING?'' She roared and Dean realised that there was still another night of full moon to get through and this might get ugly fast. Her eyes were a brilliant amber as she glared at the wizard. ''HOW COULD YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT RISKING HIM? YOU KNOW HOW IMPORTANT HE IS!''

''Mum...'' Teddy murmured.

''WHAT IF HE'D BEEN KILLED? OR WORSE,'' She screamed and Neville hunched further over on himself. ''WHAT IF THEY'D CAUGHT HIM? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY'D DO TO MY CUB?''

''Cub?'' Sam muttered.

''Mum...'' Teddy whined.

''TO A WEREWOLF?'' Hermione continued, too angry to hear anyone. Dean leaned back in his chair to watch. She looked fuckin' magnificent when she wanted to kill someone.

''We had to get your blood!'' Neville retorted at last.

Hermione snarled, and leant over the table so she was glaring straight into Neville's eyes.

''Never _ever_ choose my safety over my son's. Or I swear on the Chosen One it will be the last thing you do. Do you understand, Longbottom?''

The man scowled, but gritted out,

''Yes, Commander Granger.''

''MUM!'' Teddy shouted and Hermione finally turned with a sigh.

''Yes, Teddy?'' She asked mildly, like she hadn't just been screaming at someone.

''I'm nearly sixteen, you know.'' Teddy pointed out, leaning forwards.

Dean and Hermione both scowled. Sam, sitting next to his brother, had the decency to look slightly embarrassed.

''Ted, this isn't about your age.'' Hermione sighed, sitting down again.

''Isn't it?'' Neville interjected, proving that he either knew when to pick his battles or didn't really believe Hermione would kill him. ''You want to remind us what you were doing at sixteen?''

She snarled at him and the man winced.

''That's not the point...'' Hermione added.

Dean, who spotted his brother adding snarling and the word werewolf and coming up with nothing good, grabbed Sam's wrist and shook his head. Sam narrowed his eye's at Dean and scrunched up his nose, but didn't go for his knife.

''Breaking into the government, blackmail, founding secret organisations, getting into fights. Hell that's nothing compared to what you did to Umbridge in fifth year.'' Neville continued, leaning towards Hermione now.

''That's different.'' Hermione protested, shoving her hair away from her face. ''I was the Chosen One's best friend. I didn't have a choice. He does. He shouldn't have to fight.'' She paused before smirking. ''And it was really Umbridge's own fault what happened to her. Nothing to do with me.''

Neville rolled his eyes.

''Just because I shouldn't have to,'' Teddy broke in gently, ''Doesn't mean I _don't_ have to.''

Hermione sighed and collapsed into her chair.

''Merlin, you sound like your father sometimes,'' She breathed and Neville flinched. ''Ted. I can't lose you. Not again. Not when I've just got you back.'' She stared at him and smiled wanly.

The kid grinned back at her.

''You won't. It'll be fine.'' He assured her naïvely.

Hermione ducked her head, eyeing him out of the corner of her eye with a smirk hanging around her face.

''You know,'' She murmured, ''You're easily the tenth person to say that to me.'' She snorted and turned to look at Neville. ''What's done is done, I suppose. Just don't do it again. Please.'' She added, apparently as an afterthought.

''Wait,'' Sam broke in suddenly. ''Commander Granger?''

''We militarised after the return of the Death Eaters.'' Hermione shrugged, ignoring the sharp look Neville threw at her. ''Helped civilians to take us seriously.''

''Uh, Hermione?'' Neville eyed Sam and Dean warily. ''What _are_ you doing here?''

''Starting a café.'' Hermione murmured sarcastically. ''What does it look like, Nev?''

Neville heaved a great sigh and pinched at his nose with his right hand.

''You haven't changed.'' He snapped angrily.

''Why would I?'' She returned, narrowing her eyes.

''Hermione.'' He complained.

She rolled her eyes.

''I stumbled into town about...A month and a half ago. Dean very kindly took me in.'' Sam suddenly developed a weird coughing fit so Dean kicked him. Hard. ''I needed time to recuperate and Sam's not very well.'' Neville eyed Sam suspiciously. Dean's brother looked deceptively healthy. ''To be honest, I wasn't really planning on doing anything. I thought you were dead. Both of you.'' She added sadly. Dean shifted so his foot was resting against hers and she smiled at him gently.

''Yeah,'' Sam asked suddenly, frowning. ''How come you've not come looking for her before?''

''When we fled the UK...'' Neville squinted. ''Three years ago now? It wasn't just us. There were two groups. Hermione was leading hers West, I was leading mine East. The plan was to regroup abroad and then return when we'd managed to muster our forces.''

''Unfortunately...'' Hermione sighed and Dean felt his stomach sink.

''Unfortunately, it was an ambush.'' The wizard continued. ''We were small groups anyway but...It was a bloodbath. Everyone either died or was captured and I fled across the Channel. Stowed away on a muggle ferry.''

Hermione snorted.

''That's why I thought you were dead. The Death Eaters reported no survivors. I Sealed your name and moved on.''

''Sealed...?'' Sam broke in, but Dean shut him up.

''I thought that meant you could track them?'' He pointed out.

Hermione shrugged, waving her hand casually. The letters on her arm glinted dully as her sleeve rode up.

''I can't simultaneously monitor hundreds of names at once. I don't bother tracking the names, I just Seal them so the Death Eaters can't.''

''Besides, I haven't used my full name in a long time.'' Neville sighed. ''I've been going by Abbot the last few years. Anyway, I heard the same thing about Hermione. No survivors. Of course, I should've been suspicious. There wasn't a body on display and it should have been headlines news, but...'' He shrugged. ''Anyway...I went East. Ended up in India eventually and...You remember the Patil twins?'' Hermione nodded. ''Their family took me in. Nice people. Interesting plants too.'' He added thoughtfully. ''Eventually I got word that you'd been sighted in America, so I started making my way West again. Couldn't risk going through Russia. Getting back across Europe was a problem, but the Veela helped me out. They have long memories and Fleur was their niece or something. I found Teddy, gathered as much information as I could and then we came here.''

Hermione frowned.

''How?''

Teddy's head shot up excitedly.

'' _We flew_.'' He grinned and Hermione frowned at him.

''You flew the Atlantic on brooms?''

''We took a plane.'' Teddy corrected, as Neville groaned. ''It was really exciting!''

''How did you get Neville on an aeroplane?'' Hermione asked, apparently amazed.

''Lots and lots of badgering.'' Neville complained. ''He can be amazingly annoying.''

Hermione smiled at the kid.

''You forget who his mother is.'' She murmured and Neville snorted.

* * *

Dean decided that Hermione probably needed some alone time with her friends, so he dragged Sam to the kitchen to start on food.

''Werewolf.'' Sam bit out and Dean winced.

''She's not a werewolf.''

''The kid is!'' Sam yelped. ''Also did you know she had a son?'' He added, waving his giant hands.

Dean grimaced.

''No.'' He admitted.

Sam paused in his flailing and winced. He pushed his hair back and swallowed, looking nervous.

''And uh...how're you coping with that idea?''

''Well, gee Sam. Let's sit down and braid our hair at the same time, too.'' Dean complained, making a point of not meeting Sam's eyes. Sam scowled at him as Dean opened the refrigerator to peer at the contents.

''Dean...''

''I'm happy for her.'' Sam raised an eyebrow over the fridge door. ''What, I am!'' he yanked out the ingredients he wanted and then slammed the door, glaring at his brother. ''I can't think of a single person on Earth who deserves to have her son come back to life more than she does.'' He ground his teeth. ''I'm not a friggen' monster, Sam. She's got her kid back. Of course I'm thrilled.''

Sam sighed.

''But what about...you know...''

''Whoah!'' Dean barked, ''Stop it. I don't know what those pain potions are doin' to your head but me and 'Mione, we're friends.'' He waved the chopping knife threateningly. ''So just shut your trap and pass me that pot.''

Sam handed over the pot, eyeing the knife nervously.

''It's just...Who's his father?'' He asked eventually and Dean scowled, chopping a carrot into small pieces.

''If I had to guess? I'd say 'Mione's fiancé. Guy called Ron.''

''She had a fiancé?'' Sam yelped, eyes wide.

Dean rolled his own.

''Yep. That kid looks just like the pair of them. He's dead.''

''She's certain about that one?'' Sam asked nervously.

''Well,'' Dean murmured, reaching for an onion. ''Apparently she found his body hanging from that big bridge in London. The one with the towers? Course he was barely recognisable by that point what with all the torture.''

Sam stared at him.

''Fuck, Dean.''

Dean let out a slow breath and put down the knife.

''Yeah.'' He managed.

''Has she...'' Sam shifted nervously. ''Has she got anyone else?''

''You mean besides those two?'' Dean asked, rubbing his hands down his face.

''Yeah.''

''Nope.'' He snorted and then frowned as he looked at Sam. ''What're you thinkin', Sammy?''

Sam pursed his lips and let out a long sigh.

''That's not true.'' He said at last. ''She's got us.''

Dean stared at his brother.

''You sure about that?'' He asked warily. Sam was usually the first to complain about extra burdens, about staying focused.

Sam sighed again.

''Yeah, I'm sure. You care about her, Dean. Hell, you genuinely like her. Do you know how rare that is for you?'' Dean shrugged. ''She's got us.''

* * *

''Ted,'' Hermione was saying hoarsely as Dean arrived back to tell them there was food. ''Please can you...?''

The kid flushed and his hair shortened to a sandy blond that stuck up in tufts and lost the shape to his face that made him look just like Hermione. The freckles faded into pale unblemished skin but his eyes didn't change. Still the same unsettling amber as Hermione's.

''What the...?'' Dean muttered, startling all three of them.

''Ted's a metamorphmagus.'' Hermione murmured, intercepting Dean. Her eyes looked suspiciously red. ''He can change his appearance at will. He doesn't usually look like...'' She swallowed hard. ''Well...''

''It's how I recognised him.'' Neville murmured ''In France. He hadn't changed his appearance in years, but I spotted him in a muggle village. Looking just like you and...''

Hermione winced.

''I appreciate the flattery.'' She breathed, shifting slightly so she was looking into Ted's eyes. ''But I prefer you as you. Not as an amalgamation of the past.''

''S'not why I did it.'' Ted muttered, shuffling his feet.

Hermione blinked.

''Then...?''

''I wanted something to remember you by.'' He sniffled. ''I thought that if I looked like you and Ron then I wouldn't miss you so much. It's just...I thought...I thought you were dead, mum!''

''Oh, Teddy!'' Hermione breathed, wrapping her arms around the kid again. Behind them Neville shifted uncomfortably and Dean jerked his head towards the door.

''We've got food.'' He murmured and the wizard skirted around Hermione and her son, following Dean down the hall. Knowing Hermione she'd follow when she was good and ready.

* * *

''So who are you?'' Neville asked, staring at the food suspiciously as they waited for Hermione and Teddy.

''Sam and Dean Winchester. That's Kevin Tran.'' Dean barked.

Kevin grunted into his food, too busy shovelling it into his mouth to pay attention the to tension in the room.

Sam handed the wizard a bowl of chilli which he took with a muttered thank you.

''Which one are you?'' Dean asked dangerously. ''If she's the Queen...''

''The Knight.'' Neville's fingers had gone white around his fork. ''I'm the Knight.''

Dean folded his arms.

''How do I know you ain't just here to hurt her?''

The other man's jaw clenched.

''How do I know you haven't already?'' He snapped back.

''Dean...'' Sam warned, eyeing him warily.

Dean leaned back in his chair and shrugged.

''Ask her. But I swear if you've just come here to drag her back in I'll...''

''You'll what?'' Neville challenged, glaring at him. '''Mione doesn't do something if she doesn't want to. She wants back in there's...''

''Stand down, Longbottom!'' Hermione barked from the doorway and the wizard stiffened, turning in his seat to glare at Hermione.

''No. What are you doing here?'' He demanded. Dean noticed Teddy hiding behind Hermione, one hand holding tight to her shirt. ''What are you doing with them?''

''Recovering.'' Hermione bit out, eyes glinting furiously.

''From what?'' Neville got to his feet. ''What have you been doing for the last three years whilst our people have been dying?''

''Your people.'' She hissed. ''Not mine. Not any more.''

Neville recoiled, visibly shocked.

''What about the Resistance?'' He demanded. ''The Chosen One? The King?''

''What about them?'' Hermione demanded, waving her hands through the air. '' When I woke up this morning I was convinced that there was only one person left in this world who actually cared if I lived or died. And I am keeping his brother alive! I thought you were dead. All of you.''

''So what?'' Neville stepped closer. ''You just gave up? Decided you'd pretend it all never happened with a couple of muggles?''

''Yes!'' Hermione roared. ''I did. What? You think I've been cooling my heels since I left Cardiff? They have never stopped tracking me. They have _never_ left me alone. Dean is the first person whose helped me in a _long_ time, Neville. So you will be civil. You will be polite and I swear on everyone we have _ever_ lost, you will not push me!''

Neville and Hermione stared each other down until Kevin's spoon scraped against the bottom of his bowl and everyone jumped. Apparently nothing could distract the kid from actual food.

''Look,'' Sam started nervously, glancing between Neville and Hermione, who still both looked furious and Dean, who probably looked like he was wondering where his knives were. Which was insane. Dean knew where his knives where. One on his belt and one duck-taped to the bottom of the table. ''Why don't we just sit down and eat?''

Hermione lifted her chin slightly and Neville scowled, unclenching his right hand.

''I apologise.'' He murmured, turning back towards the table. ''I shouldn't have done that.''

Teddy peaked out from behind Hermione and Dean was convinced the kid had made his eyes bigger on purpose.

''Mum?'' He asked and Hermione shuddered and relaxed.

''Sorry, cub.'' She murmured, ruffling his hair with her free hand. ''C'mon, lets get you something to eat.''

Hermione dropped into the spare seat next to Dean, who tapped his boot against her foot once. She looked up at him and gave him a quick grimace. Teddy took the seat next to Kevin and gave the other boy a kilowatt grin.

''Hi!'' He chirped as Kevin visibly jumped. ''I'm Teddy!''

Kevin stared at Dean helplessly and next to him Hermione started to laugh quietly under her breath.

* * *

''How'd you even find her?'' Sam asked eventually.

''DA medallion.'' Teddy piped up, halfway through his second bowl of chilli. Kevin had quit looking terrified and started looking slightly awed. Teddy's hair was a bright blue now, Dean noticed.

''What?'' Dean asked intelligently.

Hermione lifted a large gold coin from beneath her shirt. It had a chain attached to it, long enough that you couldn't see it when she was wearing it. It explained what the gold thing was that Dean had been seeing out of the corner of his eye. ''We all had one. There's a charm that allows you to locate another member of the Army, provided they're wearing their medallion.''

''Isn't that really dangerous?'' Sam murmured, frowning heavily.

''Not when you've got Hermione on your side.'' Neville murmured, still eyeing all of them suspiciously. He'd calmed down a lot once Teddy had started trying to make Kevin laugh by changing his nose. ''They're enchanted so they can only be removed be the wearer and once they are the tracking spell breaks, making the coin useless. The charm can only be used by someone wearing the medallion so it can't be used by the Death Eaters. It only works within a certain radius which is why it took us so long to find you. We've been in the area for a week.'' He added.

''You have?'' Hermione blurted, looking surprised. ''Why did it take you so long?''

''The signal kept cutting in and out.'' Neville shrugged. ''I think its something to do with the wards around this place. They aren't your usual scheme.''

''They aren't my work.'' Hermione waved a hand at Sam. ''It's something to do with the building, the wards were built in with the foundations.''

''That was back in the fifties.'' Sam added helpfully. ''The Men of Letters who built this place protected it against all kinds of things. All the doors are iron, there's salt lines everywhere...''

''Iron and salt?'' Neville frowned. ''What exactly are they protecting against?''

Hermione flinched and glanced nervously at Teddy who was busy trying to weird out Kevin.

''You remember,'' She said quietly, ''Fay? The Fairy?''

Neville frowned.

''She shared a dormitory with you in school, didn't she?''

Hermione nodded.

''Nice girl. Loved Quidditch. Excellent Beater. She was in Wood's squadron. You remember...'' Hermione sighed heavily. ''You remember when Wood survived that explosion in Newcastle? He turned up two days later with no memory, miraculously unharmed?''

Dean exchanged an eye roll with his brother.

''And then a year later to the day the Fairy was found in her room, covered in claw marks?''

Neville grimaced.

''Vividly.'' He mumbled.

Hermione shrugged.

''Sam and Dean hunt the things that did that. They're called Demons.''

''Ah.'' Neville stared at them for a moment. ''I thought you told us it was a delayed curse that did that?''

''Sometimes,'' Hermione murmured grimly. ''Ignorance really is bliss.''

For a moment Dean thought Neville would argue with Hermione and demand to know why she hadn't told them about it, like Sam did every time Dean hid something from his brother. Even though usually, Dean had a completely good reason! But the other man just shrugged and went back to his food. Dean tried to ignore the judgemental look Sam was giving him.

* * *

Hermione didn't come and find him that night to pummel the shit out of him. Which was fine, partly because his bruises from last night were still aching and partly because he already knew where she was.

Dean grabbed his machete, the one he brought back from Purgatory that was more anger than blade, and a bottle of scotch, before heading for the room they cleared out for Teddy. It was just down the hall from Kevin's and near Sam's but unfortunately on the other side of the Bunker from Dean and Hermione.

Which was why he wasn't surprised to find Hermione standing guard outside Teddy's room.

She was leaning against the wall, completely still, barely breathing, her wand clenched in her fist. Her head turned towards Dean silently as he approached her and he winced, realising her eyes pretty much glowed in the dark of the hall.

''Need a hand?'' He asked quietly, settling against the wall next to her

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

''I can protect him.'' She murmured.

''Yeah,'' Dean hefted his machete. ''But who's gonna protect you?''

Hermione scowled and didn't answer, going back to staring at the door in front of her.

''What're you protecting him from anyway? There ain't much that'll get through those doors.'' He waved in the general direction of the main door.

''I don't...'' For a second Hermione looked frustrated and confused before she brushed it off. ''It's...instinct in part, I suppose. Ted's got it too, he's always more cuddly around the full moon.''

Dean _had_ noticed that.

''How come...?''

''I'm not wandering around hugging every person I see?'' She muttered. ''Two reasons. Firstly I have better control than that.'' Dean snorted and she scowled. ''Secondly, it manifests differently in me. Ted's cuddly because he's still a cub. I'm standing guard...''

''Because you need to know he's safe.'' Dean realised, quietly. ''This is like a bear thing, right? Protecting their cubs?''

Hermione actually took her eyes off the door to glower at him.

''Shut up.'' She hissed, flushing.

Dean rolled his eyes.

''How old was he when you...?'' He gestured to the claw marks.

Hermione shrugged.

''That happened before the King died so...'' She squinted. ''I think about five or six. We used to have a lot of trouble with the full moons because we had quite a few werewolves on our own side...you fight them long enough and someone's bound to get bitten. They had to be locked away because we no longer had the potion ingredients necessary to control it. But Ted...his lycanthropy is inherited. He doesn't change but a lot of the pack instincts are still there. He hated being alone on the full moon. I used to wake up and find he'd crawled into bed with me in the middle of the night.'' She sighed. ''I hate...'' Her voice faltered for a second before she continued, still very quiet. ''I _hate_ that he's had to learn to control it on his own. I hate that his father's not here to teach him all of this.'' Dean winced. ''Still...It got easier after I killed Fenrir. There was enough wolf in me to calm what little wolf there is in him. They're not solitary creatures you know.''

Dean had a sudden flashback to the packs of werewolves he'd found in Purgatory and grimaced.

''How old were you when Teddy...''

Hermione sighed.

''I was eighteen when Ted was born. I must have been about twenty one when his grandmother died.''

''Holy shit.'' Dean breathed, because yeah he pretty much raised Sam, but that'd been his brother not his son. He hadn't been a teen mom and a freedom fighter all at the same time. ''You are such a bad ass.'' He added, grinning to himself.

''Beg pardon?'' Hermione asked, frowning.

''You've been fighting all your life and you had a kid? Freakin' bad ass.'' Dean could just about make out the curve to her lips which means she smiling faintly. ''I had a friend who would have liked you.'' He murmured.

''Really?'' She asked doubtfully. ''Me? The wanted, bitter terrorist?''

''Yeah. You, the kick-ass, sarcastic, freedom fighter.'' Hermione let out a quiet laugh. ''Ellen was a real bad ass. She didn't let anyone get away with anything. Tough as steel, nerves of steel...generally,'' He waved his hands trying to encompass the greatness that had been Ellen Harvelle. ''Awesome basically.''

''She's in your gospels, isn't she?'' Hermione murmured and Dean nodded.

''Yeah.''

''Dead?'' Hermione asked bluntly.

''Yeah.'' Dean sighed. ''Were you like Ted as a kid?'' He asked suddenly, nodding towards the door.

Hermione snorted bitterly.

''I was naive. But yes, I was a lot like Teddy. I believed there was good in everyone. He gets that from his father.''

''Bullshit.'' Dean called softly.

Hermione shrugged but didn't argue.

''You?''

''Bitter?'' Dean offered. ''I wanted my mom back a lot. I wanted a normal life for Sam. I wanted a normal life for me. I wanted my dad to be proud of me.'' He blinked. ''I wanted a lot of things.''

''Did you get any of them?'' She asked.

''Nope.''

''Me neither.'' Hermione sighed. ''A life time of good intentions and here I am in the middle of the night standing guard over the one thing I have left that sacred to me.''

''Cynical ain't an improvement on bitter.'' Dean pointed out darkly.

''I thought he was dead.'' Hermione breathed suddenly. ''For years, I thought he was dead. I thought I'd failed him. I should have been there, I should have protected him. I should never have let him out of my sight and...I thought he was _dead_.''

Dean shifted so their shoulders were pressed against each other, although he had to slide a bit further down the wall to reach her. Hermione took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming slightly.

''He's not.'' Dean promised her. ''He's alive. And he's gonna be alive tomorrow too. You know why?''

''Why?'' Hermione asked, sounding vaguely amused.

''Because between the two of us, ain't nothing going to get to that kid.''

Hermione smiled faintly again and nodded, knocking the back of her hand against his. Dean caught it without really thinking about it and held on.

''Thank you, Dean.'' she breathed.

And that's what they did. They stood there the whole night, Hermione with her wand in her right hand, Dean with blade in his left, an unopened bottle of scotch on the floor between them.

* * *

Teddy didn't seem surprised to find two adults standing guard outside his door when he woke up the next day, just hugged Hermione tightly and asked Dean where the showers were.

''C'mon.'' Dean tugged her down the hallway towards their rooms as Teddy shuffled off in the other direction. ''You can help me make pancakes.''

''Do I have any option in this?'' Hermione asked dryly.

''Not really.'' Dean kicked Sam's door loudly as he passed it and got an annoyed shout from his brother as he woke up suddenly. ''Sides, I'm not gonna let you cook. You can chop fruit.''

''Should you really be trusting me with knives?'' She wondered sarcastically.

Dean smirked at her.

''Please, I could take you in a knife fight.''

''I find it amusing that you'd think I'd need a knife.''

Dean snorted, knocking their shoulders together and Hermione grinned at him.

* * *

After breakfast everyone split up. Hermione went to shower and then get some sleep, Sam went for a run, Kevin retreated to his tablet (Third Trial was still a no-show), Neville had vanished off to explore the Bunker with Teddy and Dean had settled in to read the book Hermione had thrown at him when he kept asking her questions about her culture.

It was that or dicking around on Sam's laptop for a few hours.

Either Teddy wasn't as quiet as his mother when he moved, or Dean's senses were exactly as sharp as he thought they were, he managed to hear the kid coming before he entered the room.

Dean rolled his eyes as he caught the kid lurking in the doorway just on the edge of his vision.

''What?'' He barked.

Teddy jumped and then moved into view, bouncing lightly on his toes. His eyes, like Hermione's, had faded from that weird amber that was starting to freak Dean out, to a bright hazel.

''Hi.'' The kid grinned nervously, running a hand through his hair, which was back to being curly and ginger. His face was the same though. ''It's Dean, right?''

Dean sighed and set down his book.

''Yeah?'' He asked cautiously.

''So...uh...You know my mum?''

Dean nodded slowly.

''Yeah, I mean she's kinda living with me and my brother so...'' Fuck, Dean could bluff his way out of a jail cell but talking to someone's kid? Especially someone he was...friends with...

''That's...nice.'' Teddy chewed his lip for a second. ''I wish I'd had a brother. Or a sister. But you know...war.'' He shrugged like being caught in the middle of what was the biggest long term massacre Dean had ever heard of wasn't really a big deal.

''I figured I ought to explain something. Neville said I should anyway.'' He flushed. ''I'm not really Hermione's son?'' Dean stilled, staring at him. ''I mean...I am.'' Teddy added, awkwardly. ''It's just...my parents are dead.'' He blurted and Dean blinked.

''Sorry?'' He offered, confused.

''Nah, don't be.'' Teddy shrugged. ''I never knew them. They died in the same battle as my godfather, the Chosen One.''

Dean frowned.

''The Chosen One was your godfather?'' He repeated, confused. ''Hermione's best friend?''

Teddy grinned at him.

''Yeah. Pretty cool really.'' His hair grew two inches as he smiled. ''Anyway, I lived with my grandmother after that for a bit.'' His smile died slightly. ''And the Death Eaters came for us when I was three. I mean,'' He shrugged, unhappily. ''We should have expected it. My dad was a werewolf and my grandmother married a muggleborn. I was still mostly a werewolf. Anyway, Hermione's perimeter alarms went off and...'' He sighed and dropped onto the other sofa. ''If you could get Uncle Ron to talk about it, you'd think it was out of a story book or something. Apparently, mum was there in seconds. I don't remember much, I was only little, but I remember I'd been hiding behind the sofa and...'' He flinched. ''They set the house on fire and Gran was just...gone. And then she was just there.'' He didn't seem to be looking at Dean any more, his eyes were focused on a point just behind him. ''She said '' _We're going to play a game, Teddy-bear. I need you to be very brave for me_.'' and she picked me up and wrapped her cloak around me and they'd put up the anti-apparition charms so the only way out was through the Death Eaters. So she held on tight and charged the Death Eaters head on. I don't remember much of that bit but...the King used to say that Hermione when she was protecting someone was scarier than facing the Dark Lord. She took down eleven Death Eaters, all with a three year old balanced on her hip.''

''Fuck.'' Dean breathed and then winced. Teddy waved it aside.

''She pretty much raised me after that. Taught me to read, to write. How to use magic, make potions. She patched me up when I got hurt, she used to stop tactical meetings to look after me when I had nightmares...'' He trailed off.

''How come you let her think you were dead?'' Dean asked, because there is no way Hermione knew her kid was alive and _wasn't_ spending every waking moment looking after him. And yeah, blood or not, this is still her kid. Just like Bobby was pretty much Dean's dad.

Teddy shivered and wrapped his arms around himself.

''I was being smuggled out of the country...about four years ago. Hermione decided it was too dangerous to keep me there any more. So I was on a boat...sailing out to France and the Death Eater patrols caught us. They probably didn't know I was on board, they just liked sinking muggle ships for the hell of it. I think it was a game for them. We sank a mile off the coast and I woke up in a muggle hospital three months later. I didn't have any way of contacting her, didn't know which of the French wizards were on my side and which would just sell me out. I stopped using magic, got put into foster care with a muggle family. Until Uncle Nev found me, I didn't even know she was alive.''

Dean sighed heavily.

''Why're you telling me this?''

Teddy blinked and then held up two fingers.

''Two reasons. One, so you know I'm not just some secret love child she didn't tell you about. And two,'' he glared at Dean. ''So you know that if you hurt my mother, I will remove your kneecaps.'' His eyes narrowed and turned black. ''Slowly.''

Dean's head jerked up and he stared at the kid nervously.

''No, wait. I'm not...''

''You like her.'' The kid taunted, eyes brown again. ''You make her smile.''

Dean rolled his eyes.

''Shut up.'' He grumbled.

* * *

''I don't want to do this.'' Kevin whined slouching against the door.

''Shut up, Kevin.'' Sam ordered, looking slightly amused.

''It's a good idea.'' Hermione murmured, kicking off her boots. ''For both of you.''

Teddy shrugged and kicked off his own shoes. Dean, sitting against the wall, wondered if he'd spent as much time training growing up as he and Sam did.

''Did you keep up with your training in France?'' Hermione asked, as Sam physically dragged Kevin away from the wall.

''A bit.'' Teddy grinned at her. ''Like, slightly.''

Hermione smirked.

''Sometimes I swear you're the reincarnation of your mother. Right. Lets see what you've got.''

* * *

Neville sat down next to Dean and watched Sam and Hermione put Kevin and Teddy through their paces.

''She wasn't always like this.'' The other man said quietly and Dean blinked, looking away from where Sam was correcting Teddy's technique. Hermione had actually stepped back and let Sam take the lead on this, which Dean figured was because her fighting technique wasn't really a technique more of a ''Holy crap don't die'' fighting style.

''Like what?''

Neville waved a hand to where Hermione was now quietly pummelling Sam into a corner. Dean hadn't seen his brother look that surprised in a long time. .

''Like that. She wasn't always the Wolf Queen. She used to just be Hermione.'' He smiled faintly. ''I was eleven, when we first met. I'd lost my toad on the train and she offered to help me look for it. She had the brightest smile and she gave the best hugs. Bruised your ribs for days, mind you. But still...For the first bit of school it was just the two of us. We weren't terribly popular. She was too smart for her own good and I was just too much of an easy target. But she always put aside time to help people and Merlin how she'd grin at you.'' He sighed. ''And then she fell in with the Chosen One and things started happening. Those smiles got a little bit rarer. She was always rushing somewhere, there was always some crisis he needed her for. She was so damn loyal she would have followed him off a cliff. Not that he'd ask her too, self-sacrificing git.'' Neville added in a mutter. ''She was thirteen the first time she was attacked. Turned to stone for a while. Ended up running from a werewolf, Ted's dad coincidentally, when she was fourteen and helping an escaped convict stay on the run. Fifteen when the national news papers besmirched her as a harlot and a whore.''

Dean choked.

''What?''

Neville sighed.

''A reporter took a dislike to her. Ran an article that appeared in Witch Weekly saying that Hermione was working her way through important wizards. Who does that to a fifteen year old girl?'' Neville added, apparently amazed.

''What happened to the reporter?''

''Oh, Hermione kept her in a jar for a while.'' He shrugged,like that wasn't the most insane thing Dean had ever heard. ''When she was sixteen, I followed her into the Ministry of Magic after the Chosen One. First time I saw her get hurt. She still has the scar.''

''Which one?'' Dean asked, warily.

Neville tapped his shoulder with two fingers.

''The long one which runs from here, across her front. Death Eater caught her with it and...she nearly died. The Chosen One didn't even stop to think, too busy caught up in himself to realise he'd almost lead her to her death. She was a lot warier after that.'' He clenched his jaw. ''She went on the run at eighteen. She's been branded Undesirable ever since, although she now holds the top spot. Most wanted in the wizarding world. After the King died, I thought we'd lose her then. Thought she'd go the same way as the Fox. But she didn't. Refused to give up or give in.'' He sighed and turned to Dean. ''What was she like? When you found her?''

Dean stared at the witch as she helped Teddy back to his feet, explaining where he'd gone wrong. He tried hard to think of a better description than '' _barely human_ ''.

''Fucked up.'' He said instead. ''She didn't trust anyone, barely spoke. She thought I was going to kill her or...'' He stopped abruptly. ''She's better now.''

''I can see that.'' Neville eyed Dean for moment. ''Last I saw of Hermione...she wasn't the witch I went to school with any more. There was no _Hermione_ left, there was just the Wolf Queen or Commander Granger. She didn't smile, she didn't flinch, she didn't hesitate, heck if we weren't bunking in the same room most nights I'd have said she didn't even get nightmares. After we lost Ted, it was like the last of her light just went out. She used to be funny, she used to be _sweet_. Instead she was just bitter and cynical and...honestly, broken. I didn't think she could get worse than that.''

''You thought wrong.'' Dean muttered.

Yeah, years constantly at war with the world will turn you into a soldier, Dean knew that better than anyone. But years spent on the run, with no energy left, no hope, no family, no nothing...that would turn you into the woman he met in a diner two months ago.

''You've made her better.'' Neville murmured.

Dean grunted.

''Put it this way...The Hermione I knew three years ago would have pinned me to the wall and interrogated me if I turned up out of the blue. But she didn't. So, thank you. For that.'' Dean sighed. That probably isn't anything to do with him. That was probably the sheer relief of knowing that she wasn't the only one left, that she hadn't killed everyone. ''And...I'd like to apologise.'' Neville added.

Dean stiffened, staring at the man.

''Why? You've done nothin' to me.''

Neville sighed heavily.

''No. But I'm going to.''

* * *

''So what are your plans?'' Dean asked over dinner.

Hermione and Neville exchanged a wary glance.

''Not really sure.'' Hermione sighed heavily. ''With just the two of us,''

''Three,'' Teddy broke in.

''Two,'' Hermione insisted, ''We're not much of a resistance. Britain has fallen, the borders are closed. I don't really see what we could do.''

''You could stay here.'' Sam offered and everyone turned to stare at him. Everyone except Kevin who was apparently completely engrossed in pizza. ''What? It's safe, we've got plenty of room.'' For a split second Sam's eyes flickered to Dean's. ''Keep us company.''

Dean froze because he'd heard this before. A long time ago when Sam was planning to let the Devil ride him all the way to the Cage. When _Sam_ got it into his head that the best thing for Dean would be making sure he wouldn't be on his own without his brother.

''We'd be bringing trouble down on your doorstep.'' Neville pointed out, narrowing his eyes at Dean. ''You've got problems of your own to be worrying about.''

''Well, yeah.'' Dean flushed and tugged at his hair. ''But...'' He smiled faintly at Hermione who went still. ''We don't mind. This place is huge and...no one knows where it is. Maybe you could stay a while. Regroup.'' He kicked his brother before Sam could open his mouth and start going on about the water pressure or some crap in a desperate bid to convince them to stay.

''Dean...'' Hermione started,

''It'd be fine.'' Dean murmured and for a split second let himself imagine her saying yes. Imagining her staying.

''We'll...We'll see.'' Hermione said at last. Next to her Neville looked pale and unhappy.

Kevin stole another slice of pizza.

* * *

''I know where it is.'' Neville blurted, later that night.

Hermione stiffened and set down her knitting. It was another part of her green project.

''Beg pardon.'' She said warily.

Sam and Dean exchanged worried looks over the coffee table. Teddy and Kevin had retreated to the TV room, nursing their bruises.

Neville slouched in his chair looking incredibly unhappy.

''I know where it is.'' He muttered. ''Nagini. I know where it is.''

Hermione had gone pale, horrifically pale and her hands had started to shake.

''What?'' She whispered.

''We don't have to...'' Neville swallowed. ''You're right. We can ignore it. We don't have to do anything...''

''You know where Nagini is?'' Hermione breathed.

Neville frowned, clenching his fists.

''Yes.''

Dean opened his mouth but Hermione cut across him.

''Why did you tell me?'' She demanded. ''Why did you have to tell me?''

The wizard sighed.

''Because I'd never forgive myself if I didn't. Hermione, you don't have to...''

''Except, I do.'' Hermione broke in, looking slightly manic. ''You don't understand. Five minutes ago there was _nothing_ I could do to help but die. And now?''

''And now I've handed you the key to winning the war.'' Neville finished for her, looking exhausted. ''I know.''

''Where?'' She demanded. ''Where is that forsaken snake?''

''Hogwarts.'' Neville breathed, looking haunted. ''It's at Hogwarts along with the lodestone for the wards, a large number of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself.''

''No.'' Hermione breathed, collapsing backwards into her chair.

''What the hell are you two talking about?'' Dean demanded.

''We've given enough.'' Neville continued, not paying any attention. ''Hermione, please you don't have to...''

''Just...'' She got to her feet and met Dean's eyes for one horrible second. She looked devastated. ''I need to...'' She turned and fled, leaving the three men behind her.

Nevilla groaned.

''What the fuck did you just do?'' Dean demanded, rounding on him.

''Nagini...'' The wizard sighed. ''She's one of the last objects that makes the Dark Lord immortal. The others were all destroyed prior to the Chosen One's death. She's the only one left. We spent years trying to find her. Trying to work out where her master might be keeping her. We kill the snake, we can kill the Dark Lord.''

''But...'' Sam spluttered.

''But there are easily a hundred Death Eaters guarding the snake and the Dark Lord is unlikely to leave her side. So we'd have to take them all down.'' Neville finished.

''But...'' Sam stared at them as Dean let his eyes close in resignation. ''You'd need an army or...''

''But we haven't got an army.'' Neville snapped, looking manic. ''There is no army, not any more. They're all dead. My entire generation is _gone_. It's just the two of us.''

''You son of a bitch.'' Dean snarled, opening his eyes. ''Your asking her to _die_ you know that?'' Neville's jaw clenched. ''This is a suicide run and you knew she'd agree, didn't you?'' That future he'd dared to imagine, for just one tiny second, is going to slip away. And it's going to do it voluntarily.

''I've known her a lot longer than you have.'' The wizard hissed, looking furious. Dean realised that this man...he was just as battle-worn and insane as Hermione was. ''We're all that's left...''

''You're going to let her die for a chance. A tiny chance?'' Dean yelled and Sam took in a deep breath as he worked out where this was going. ''That...''

''Maybe we can save the world.'' Neville snarled back, getting to his feet to glare Dean down. ''That maybe we can save the hundreds of muggleborns who didn't ask to be born into a war. Didn't ask to have their families obliterated in front of them. That maybe we can actually win. Yes, I'm going to ask her. Because that's what we do, Winchester. We're soldiers in war we've been fighting since we were children. It's what we've _always_ done. It's what she's _always_ done. And nothing on this earth will stand in the way of Hermione Granger doing what's right!''

Behind Dean, Sam exploded into hulking wall of fury and Dean stepped out the way and let him lunge for the wizard. He's got to find her, got to do something before she decided that this fricken insanity is an actual justifiable plan.

* * *

''Don't.'' Hermione breathed when he found her. ''Just don't.''

She was sitting in the doorway of the Bunker, staring out at the tree line.

''C'mon.'' Dean murmured, holding out a hand. She blinked in surprise, but let him pull her up. They walked together across the road and into the dark woodland. After about twenty minutes of walking, the path they've found brought them out the edge of a field and Hermione dropped to the ground again, curling herself around her legs. Dean sat down opposite her and waited.

''There's a chance.'' She said eventually. ''That I could actually win. That everything could go back to normal, that the Light would win.'' She paused. ''And there's a chance that I could lose.'' She blinked, looking hollow. ''Lose everything.'' For a second her eyes flicked up to Dean's and he grimaced.

She didn't say anything for a while and then, just as Dean's legs were starting to go numb, she asked,

''Do you know how many times I was caught by the Death Eaters?''

''No.'' Dean said honestly, afraid of the answer.

''Eight times.'' She pursed her lips. ''I didn't walk away from any of them. Crawled, sure. But never walked. This,'' She tapped her forearm. ''Isn't the only word carved into my skin. I am riddled with injuries and scars. I ache when it gets cold. I've regrown all the bones in my left arm twice, I've been treated for poison and curses and hexes. I once had all of my fingernails ripped out, I'm missing two molars mostly due to being punched in the face. I've been infected with lycanthropy, I've been burnt, scalded, stabbed, slashed, bitten, beaten, bashed over the head and knocked unconscious so many times I believe I probably have minor brain damage. I was tortured for information, tortured because they were bored, tortured because they thought they could make me break. Tortured because they _had_. _''_ She swallowed, still with that same hollow expression on her face like she wasn't really there. ''And I used to wonder to myself, why they didn't just kill me? Why didn't they just end it? Maybe it was because I knew so much information about the resistance, maybe because they enjoyed watching me scuttle around trying to fight them. I don't know.'' She sighed sadly. ''Do you know how many people have died rescuing me from Death Eaters?'' She murmured.

He shrugged.

''Twenty seven people.'' Hermione paused and then added, ''And one house elf. That's how much they thought my life was worth. Twenty seven people and one house elf are dead but its all right because we got Hermione back.'' She bit out angrily. ''Those people died for me. Not under my command. For me.'' Her lip curled. ''Do you know how many people I sold out?''

Dean closed his eyes.

''No.'' He breathed.

''Seventeen.'' She was crying now, silent tears dripping down her cheeks. ''I sold out seventeen people because I just wanted them to _stop_.''

''I started the end of the world.'' Dean breathed and she jumped. ''I spent twenty years in Hell and then I broke and I started torturing.''

''That wasn't your fault.'' She insisted. Dean remembered when she'd read that particular gospel and she'd looked at him for a long time, just staring blankly. He thinks he gets why, now.

''Ain't your fault either.'' He pointed out.

She shrugged listlessly.

''I don't really have a choice.'' She murmured, unhappily. ''Do I?''

''You don't have to...'' Dean started but she laughed bitterly.

''Yes. I do. Not just because it's the right thing to do. Because I owe it to so many people, Dean. Hundreds of people are dead because of me and I owe it to them to at least try.''

''It's a suicide mission.'' Dean protested.

''I'll come back.'' She insisted, eyes hardening. ''I'll come back.''

No.

She won't.

He's not an idiot. He knows there's no turning back from some things. Just like he knows, even though he doesn't want to admit it, that all Hermione's potions are doing is delaying the inevitable. The last trial is going to kill his brother. This war is going to kill her.

''I've got to do it.'' Hermione breathed and Dean shuddered and closed his eyes, wished he could close his ears because he didn't want to have heard that.

* * *

''I need to ask you for something.'' Hermione breathed at last.

Dean eyed her warily.

''Sure?''

''I need you to look after Teddy.''

He choked.

''What?'' He managed.

Hermione scowled at him in the dark.

''Teddy. I'm asking if he can stay here. In the Bunker.''

Dean's mouth finally caught up with his brain and he spluttered,

''You're not...''

''Taking him with me on the suicide mission?'' She snorted. ''No, I'm not. But I won't leave him unprotected, not again.''

''You really trust me that much?'' Dean asked quietly.

She laughed bitterly and shifted so their shoulders were touching. Not that Dean noticed.

''Apparently so, yes.''

He sighed heavily, meeting her eyes.

''You're admitting you're not coming back from this?'' He managed and Hermione flinched.

''I'm admitting its likely.'' She murmured and Dean wrapped his arm around her. ''But...I _want_ to come back.'' She added quietly. ''For the first time in a long time.''

The small rebellious part of Dean which had never wanted to leave Lisa and Ben or Cassie before them was kicking up a storm, but he just nodded.

''Glad to hear it.'' He heard himself say and winced. ''The kid's no safer here than he would be with you.'' He added honestly.

''Here he's not wanted for his blood.'' Hermione pointed out. ''Just...Oh I don't know, make sure he doesn't change his appearance to something to noticeable and...He'll earn his keep. I'll give him the recipe for Sam's potions, so...''

''Sweetheart, I'll look after him, it's fine. But...'' Dean grimaced. ''I won't keep him here if he just gonna make a break for it after you.''

''He'll stay.'' Hermione swallowed. ''I'll make him. I just...I _cannot_ lose him again. I don't want...'' She shuddered. ''I don't want to die and not know that he's safe.''

Dean hissed.

''I'll keep him safe,'' he promised. ''I won't lock him up, but I'll do my best to keep him safe.''

She smiled weakly.

''That's a change of heart.''

''You were different.'' Dean murmured.

''Oh, really?'' Hermione challenged.

Dean flushed.

''Yeah, you took down five demons in front of me without breakin' a sweat. I thought you were dangerous.''

''I am dangerous.'' Hermione growled.

Dean grinned at her.

''You're not gonna kill me.''

She stilled, watching him carefully.

''No. I'm not.'' She said softly. ''And you're not going to kill me. Are you?''

He paused and realised that he wouldn't.

Except if she went after Sam...but then if he went after Teddy...

''No,'' He agreed. ''I wouldn't.''

* * *

Teddy didn't take the news well.

Dean wasn't present for that clusterfuck of a conversation but everyone in the Bunker heard the loud door slam at about half ten in the morning.

''That bad?'' Dean murmured when Hermione dropped into onto the stool next to the Impala.

''He wants to come with me.'' She sighed.

''You could...''

''No.'' Hermione snapped darkly. ''Teddy stays.''

Dean lifted his wrench in surrender.

''So he's not upset about you leaving?''

''He's used to it.'' She blinked. ''I am a terrible parent.'' She added flatly.

''He's still alive, isn't he?'' Dean shrugged. ''Could be worse. You could be the main parental figure behind the dipshit that is my brother.''

''There's nothing wrong with Sam.'' She scoffed.

''Agree to disagree.''

There's nothing wrong with Sam. Dean did a freakin' fantastic job.

''Do you think I'm doing the right thing?'' Hermione asked suddenly.

''You _really_ do not want me to answer that.'' Dean grumbled, scowling at her. She had the decency to wince. ''Besides, I'm a Winchester. What the hell do I know about doing the right thing?''

''More than me, I'd imagine.''

''Uh...'' He waved at her. ''Freedom fighter,'' He waved at himself. ''High school drop-out who went to Hell and started the Apocalypse.''

She snorted.

''Well, you did a terrible job because the world's still standing as far as I can tell. Anyway, I never finished high school so I don't see what that has to do with it.''

''You didn't.'' Dean blinked, amazed.

Hermione smirked.

''You remember that castle I blew up?''

Dean blinked at her.

''Wasn't my first.'' She shrugged. ''Neville says they've rebuilt Hogwarts now.''

''You blew up your high school?'' Dean asked, disbelievingly.

''It was a strategic point of defence!'' Hermione scowled. ''I couldn't let it fall into enemy hands.''

''How was the explosion?'' Dean wondered.

She leaned back on the stool and pretended to think about it.

''Surprisingly therapeutic.'' She reported at last and Dean laughed.

* * *

Hermione and Neville began to plan and prepare. The more Dean learned about their plan, the more he was convinced they wouldn't make it out alive.

''Why won't you let us help?'' Sam snapped, slamming his hand down on a large map of Scotland that was spread across the table.

Hermione and Dean exchanged looks, before very quickly looking away from each other. Beyond offering them a place to stay and looking over their plan with them, Dean hadn't offered to help. Hermione knew why.

''Sam,'' She started calmly. ''You've got your own responsibilities. We can't risk something happening to you. And anyway, you'd be ludicrously outmatched.''

''But...''

''Not our fight.'' Dean pointed out, unhappily.

Sam gaped at him.

''I can't believe you're going along with this. They're going to _die,_ Dean. Last time I checked that was permanent for people who aren't Winchesters.''

''That's fine.'' Neville murmured. Hermione shot him a dark look.

''Don't you two care?'' Sam demanded. ''It's suicide.''

''We've faced worse odds.'' Neville pointed out. Hermione stayed suspiciously silent, slowly typing out something on Sam's laptop.

Sam threw up his hands.

''What about Teddy? He's your son. You're just going to leave him?''

''Sam!'' Dean barked.

Hermione's jaw clenched.

''You think I _want_ to leave him behind?'' Hermione demanded, glaring at Sam. ''I don't have a choice, do I? It's for the greater good. Teddy understands that. What are you playing with, Longbottom?''

Dean blinked as Neville smirked and dropped the two heavy silver bracelets he'd been playing with onto the table.

''Dampers. The Patil's gave them to me. They'll render us Null and let us walk straight through the wards.''

Hermione smiled like a shark.

''Well then, that makes everything _so_ much easier.''

* * *

Some things took some time to prepare. Charlie made up fake ID's and backgrounds for both of them which would get them onto a boat to Ireland. Flying was too risky with Hermione on every wanted list there was. They had a contact in Ireland who'd be able to get them to about a mile off the coast of Scotland, which was where the wards started. Then they'd put on the bracelets and swim the next mile to a place called Stranraer.

After that it was a matter of stealing away on trains and then hiking across the freakin' Highlands to a place that couldn't be charted on any map. And then fighting an army, killing a snake and defeating a dictator.

Piece of cake.

''There used to be a village,'' Hermione murmured, later that week. ''But...I think it was destroyed about six years ago. I can't remember who took responsibility for that one.'' She scrubbed harder at the thick piece of leather she was cleaning.

Turned out, both Hermione and Neville both had armour, but Hermione had been keeping hers in a bloody heap at the bottom of her coat pockets. Dean had been helping her polish it all. Apparently dragon hide was resistant to cleaning spells. Who knew?

''If I asked you not to go,'' Dean asked quietly. ''Would you?''

Hermione sighed heavily.

''Dean,'' She breathed.

His shoulders slumped.

''Yeah, thought so.'' He muttered.

''That's not fair and you know it.'' Hermione hissed.

''Yeah.'' He grunted, working his cloth against the scales.

''In another world...'' She started.

''You'd have married The King, my mom wouldn't have been killed by demons and I wouldn't have grown up hunting monsters.'' He shrugged. ''Not worth thinking about, is it?''

She sighed.

''I could come back from this.'' She pointed out.

''You don't believe that.'' Dean murmured.

''No, I don't. But,'' She threw him a teasing smile. ''Sometimes I like to live in denial.''

''If you know you're gonna...'' Dean swallowed and looked up at her. ''Why would you even go?''

''Why did you sell your soul?'' Hermione questioned. ''Why did Sam let Lucifer in? Why did the Chosen One walk into that wood? Because sometimes the potential gain is worth the risk and sacrifice. And maybe we'll fail completely. I'm just one woman. But maybe seeing my broken mutilated corpse will spark some rebellion in the general populace. You never know, I might be more use dead than alive.''

Dean just stared at her.

''You have the worst fuckin' sense of humour.'' He complained.

She shrugged.

''I'm an acquired taste. I've made my peace with that.''

''Like bad diner food.'' Dean agreed.

* * *

''How are you so okay with this?''

Teddy added another handful of...Dean had no idea but it looked gross, to the potion and shrugged.

''What, my mother charging off to war?'' He scowled. ''It's not the first time. But I understand why.'' He sighed. ''France was nice but I realised something. You know how people introduce their parents and they come with a biography attached. Like, '' _This is my mother and she's an amazing doctor_.'' or '' _This is my mother and she make amazing cake._ ''?''

''Yeah,'' Dean murmured.

''Try growing up with, '' _This is my mother and she's the head of the resistance_.'' or '' _This is my mother and she's Undesirable No.1_ '' or '' _This is my mother and she killed eighteen Death Eaters before she came to tuck me in tonight_.''.'' He sighed. ''Gives you an interesting perspective on life.''

Dean sighed.

''I love my mother. Okay. And she's going to come back.'' The kid bit his lip hard. ''She always comes back.''

''And you'll be okay staying with me and Sam until then?'' Dean managed weakly.

''Yeah. You're cool. And Kevin's nice.''

''Great.'' Dean staggered out of the room they were using for brewing and leaned against the closed door until the urge to hurl passed.

* * *

''We're leaving tomorrow.''

''I hadn't forgotten.'' Dean threw the book away from himself furiously and got to his feet. ''C'mon.'' He held out a hand to her expectantly. She gave him a long look but took it and let him pull her out of the room.

''Where are we going?'' She asked quietly.

''Out.'' Dean grinned at her. ''It's time you see what my Baby can do.''

* * *

He parked the Impala on a hill about a half hour out from the Bunker and got out. It was a clear night and they were far enough from any major towns that the stars were pretty visible.

''I thought you'd kill me if I put my boots up on her?'' Hermione murmured as he boosted himself onto the bonnet.

''Shut up.''

''Touchy.'' Hermione smirked, but settled herself next to him quietly. ''Oh look, Jupiter.''

Dean frowned at her as she pointed to one particularly bright star.

''How'd you know that?''

''I have an OWL in Astronomy.'' Hermione murmured.

''OWL?''

''Ordinary Wizarding Levels. Usually followed by your NEWT's. Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. Never sat those, of course.''

Dean snorted.

''So what's that one then?'' He asked pointing at a random star.

Hermione laughed and told him.

* * *

''You're coming back?'' Dean whispered.

It was either really late or really early, and they'd shifted closer for warmth.

''I'm coming back.'' Hermione murmured.

For a second Dean let himself believe that lie.

* * *

''You got everything?'' Dean asked, for the third time.

Hermione tied her braid off with a band and nodded.

''I think so.''

They'd stayed out extremely late watching the stars, but not late enough that she'd miss her deadline this morning. Dean sighed, hovering in the doorway to her bedroom.

''Right.'' He coughed. ''I've got something for you.''

Hermione paused and frowned at him.

''What?''

Dean sighed, handing over the blade he'd brought back from Purgatory. It would be a bit big for her, but it'd do the trick.

''You know what to do with this?'' He asked, hollowly.

Hermione let out a soft laugh, wrapping her hand tightly around the hilt.

''Stick 'em with the pointy end?'' She teased, making him think back to Charlie's visit.

Dean flushed.

''Yeah. It won't break on you. Your magic is great but...''

''Not so useful at short range.'' She agreed. ''Neville has a sword.''

''He does?''

''Long story.'' Hermione waved that aside. ''But, thank you, Dean.''

''What about Teddy?'' Dean asked roughly.

''We already said goodbye.'' Hermione choked slightly. ''He hates watching me leave. He's with Kevin.''

She lead the way to the Bunker's main room where Neville was waiting.

''Commander.'' He murmured.

''Longbottom.'' Hermione sighed.

''You're sure about this?'' Neville started, looking at Dean. '''Mione you know...''

''I'm sure.'' Hermione grimaced before turning back to Dean. ''Look after my son.''

''Course.'' Dean murmured and then staggered as she hugged him tightly.

''I'm sorry.'' She breathed in his ear.

Dean swallowed hard.

''Yeah,'' He managed. ''Me too.''

Hermione stepped back and opened her mouth, only to be interrupted by Sam as he blundered in.

''You're really leaving?'' He demanded, frowning at them all.

Hermione looked away from Dean with a grimace as she took a step back.

''Sam, I've got to go. Don't worry about your potions, Ted...''

''It's not the potions.'' Sam snapped. ''It's a suicide run. You can't go!'' He turned to glare at his brother. ''You can't let her go.''

''You think I tell her what to do?'' Dean complained.

''He needs you!'' Sam yelled at Hermione who winced. ''You can't just leave him.''

Hermione sighed.

''Sam...'' she breathed.

Sam refused to listen, glaring at her ferociously.

''No. I'm dying. We all know it. These trials are gonna kill me and I won't leave him on his own. Please...'' Sam gave Dean a frustrated look before stepping forward and hunching over to whisper in Hermione's ear.

A moment later the witch stepped back.

''I'm sorry, Sam.'' she murmured, meeting Dean's eyes. ''But I can't give him that. Not any more.'' She sighed before smiling bitterly. ''Dean...'' She started, looking straight into his eyes.

Dean smiled sadly and ignored the voice in his head that was screaming at him to not let her go. To try and stop this one person from leaving him just like everyone else had. He looked straight back at her and knew she understood, knew she'd do the same thing, knew she felt...

''Yeah,'' He murmured. ''I know.''

Hermione drew in a shuddering breath and nodded.

''Good.'' She muttered, nodding again. ''Good.

''Commander.'' Neville called from the doorway. He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a battered and blackened tiara. ''I kept it safe.''

Hermione huffed out a short breath and they moved up the iron stairs to the main door.

''I almost forgot about that.'' She said quietly taking it and settling the tiara securely on her head. ''What?'' She smirked when she saw Sam and Dean watching her. ''They called me the Queen for a reason.''

The two soldiers stepped out the door onto the road and Dean stared at them. Both dressed in leather armour, with military coats over the top. Both looking scarred and bitter and dangerous. One with a crown perched on her head and Dean's knife on her hip.

''Thank you.'' She called suddenly.

Dean startled.

''What for?''

Hermione laughed.

''For bringing me back to life.'' She told him. Neville raised his wand and Dean took a step forward, suddenly sure that he couldn't just let her go.

''Hermione...'' He called.

She smiled at him gently and for a moment she was the teenage girl in the photograph, kind and happy and so fucking beautiful she took Dean's breath away.

''I know, Dean.'' She said softly.

He blinked and they were gone. For a long moment he just stood there, one foot on the road, like he'd gotten caught in a time stop. Then Sam made an empathetic and furious noise behind him and time started moving again.

''I'm sorry, Dean.'' His brother breathed.

''Nothing to be sorry for.'' Dean murmured, because their wasn't. It was just Winchester luck that he'd fall for a woman so completely _not_ his.

''Dean...'' Sam started.

Teddy crashed out of the door, Kevin close on his heels. For a kid who's mom had just gone off to war he didn't look too concerned, but then he was used to it. Hermione had been doing this all his life.

''We found it.'' He panted. ''We found the third seal.''

Kevin grinned triumphantly.

''We know how to end this.''

* * *

The jumper Dean found on his bed that night was soft and green and it fitted perfectly. It even had thumb holes.

And it makes Dean so freakin' angry because she left him! She cared and she left.

And she actually got it. She actually understood that Dean's life can with non-negotiable conditions, like Sam and hunting, and she'd cared anyway because she had her own conditions. And even though he knows he'd do the same in her position, _has_ done the same...even though he knows the impossibility he faces in his life everyday...

He also knows he's never going to see her again.

* * *

 ** _A/N_**

 ** _So I um..I'm not sure what you'll make of this. I hope you like it. There's one more story chapter to go and then an Epilogue._**

 ** _Also uni has finished for so I've got time to write finally. :D_**

 ** _Next chapter of History of Soul Bonds is being worked on and should be out before Christmas. I've got a Bilba/Thorin in the pipeline if anyone's interested and the next chapter of The Warehouse, The Witch and The Archangel [that's a really bad title, I know] is in progress._**

 ** _Please leave us a review._**

 ** _Thanks,_**

 ** _Hood_**


	6. Chapter 6

Sam's chest rose gently, hardly disturbing the hospital sheet draped over him. He was pale, his skin holding a sallow tinge that Dean hated and his eyes were closed. Had been closed for days now.

After the failure that was the third Trial, after watching the angels Fall from Heaven, Dean had somehow managed to get his brother to a hospital.

Only to be told by the doctors that it was a miracle that Sam was still breathing...a miracle that wouldn't last for much longer.

The TV in Sam's room was tuned into BBC America, but aside from news reports about the meteor showers and the ongoing struggles in the UK, it hasn't told him anything he actually wants to hear. Kevin and Teddy are hold up in the Bunker, he checked in with them every few hours. They seemed to be doing okay at least. Now that Kevin doesn't need to translate anything he's been binging on Netflixs with his new best friend.

It's been three weeks since Hermione left. There's been no word, no messages, no nothing. Teddy had started having nightmares, where he'd wake up screaming and unhappy. Dean would sit with him until he got back to sleep, or he had before he'd been stuck in this hospital chair watching his brother slowly die.

In the background Dean registered the door opening and sat back to allow the nurse to do her work. He almost leapt out of his skin when a hand landed on his shoulder and he stared up at the woman. She was as scarred as always, but her eyes glowed with a light Dean had never seen before. The lines of tension that usually ringed her eyes were banished. Her coat, still worn, looked cleaner than usual and she held herself with confidence and strength.

"Hello, Dean." Hermione whispered.

Dean blinked and watched as her gaze went to Sam, motionless on the bed.

"Why are you here?" He managed roughly.

"I saw the angels fall." Hermione's eyes were more gold than brown and Dean guessed the full moon was soon. "I knew something bad must have happened so I set out that night. Teddy told me where you were."

"But what about...?"

Hermione smiled softly and settled in the chair by his side, sliding her hand down his arm and lacing their fingers together.

"We did it." She told him quietly. "It's over."

"What?" Dean couldn't seem to get his head to work properly, leaving him unable to process what she's telling him. He's still stuck on the idea that she's _here_.

"The final horcrux was destroyed and then we...I...ended it." She shuddered. "We did the only thing we could do. We opened the borders. Great Britain is now the territory of the United Federation of Wizards. It was the only thing left. Everything...Everything was destroyed." She finished in a whisper and Dean realised that although she held herself better, the scars...the ones Dean can't see, are still there. "Neville's helping them rebuild. No one noticed when I vanished." Her eyes focused again on Sam. "What's happened to him?"

"Uh...Doc said it was multiple organ failure, like you told us." Dean rubbed at his forehead. "I think. Or everything. He said...a lot of things, I guess. I was gonna ask one of the angels."

Hermione shook her head.

"They'll be in no state to help you right now. I've called in a favour. The American embassy has agreed to admit Sam to the local Hospital."

"He's in a hospital." Dean mumbled.

"A wizards hospital. They'll fix him. The magic's gone, it's just the damage left now. That makes it treatable."

''I thought you were _dead_.'' He breathed, focussing on her properly.

She smiled.

''I almost was.''

"Why are you here?" Dean tried again, still confused.

She'd said she'd come back. He'd wanted her to come back, but he'd never actually _believed_ her.

"No good deed goes unpunished." She told him, eyes dark. "But I think we've had quite enough punishment for two people. Time for a reward."

* * *

 ** _A/N_**

 ** _The important thing to note is that this story isn't about Hermione. It's about Dean._**

 ** _But there's still the Epilogue to go, which will go into a bit more detail about what happened and the future for both of them._**

 ** _Hope this is okay,_**

 ** _Hood_**


	7. Chapter 7

**Three Years Later...**

Dean straightened his tie in the mirror for the third time, as he made faces at Spock, the stone-faced Eagle Owl that lived by the window. One day he'll get over the idea of keeping birds in the house. It's just so _weird_.

''Hermione,'' He yelled, stepping back from the mirror. ''You ready to go?''

There was a pause before she started down the stairs, deliberately making as much noise as possible. Dean could hear her growling under her breath.

''Do I have any choice in the matter?'' She complained loudly. Dean looked up as she entered the room and made a point of not scowling. Hermione didn't often cover her scars with magic. She only did it when she didn't want to be stared at by strangers. The smooth skin where Dean usually saw scars almost made her unrecognisable to him and Sam had been known to walk straight past her without recognising her. The scars were as much a part of her as her short temper and seeing her without them was freaky.

''What?'' She demanded, unhappily, one hand fisted by her side.

''Nice dress.'' Dean said instead, grinning. It was too.

She looked down at her dress before lifting the heels in her other hand threateningly.

''Shut. Up.'' She warned.

He raised his hands in surrender and turned away so she couldn't see him smirking. The best poker face in the world wouldn't stop Hermione's ears going red when he gave her a compliment though.

''And yeah, we've got to go.'' He added, looking back.

Hermione sighed heavily and dropped into a chair to put her shoes on.

'''Sides,'' Dean scowled and undid his top button again so he could breath. ''There's no way you're leaving me there dressed like a monkey alone.''

''I could turn you into a monkey, if that would help?'' She offered, innocently.

Dean glared at her.

''Not. Funny.''

'' _Au contraire_ ,'' She murmured. ''I think watching you throw food at Sam would be exceedingly hilarious.''

Dean frowned at her, before sneaking a look at the calender. Sam, he realised with a sinking feeling in his gut, had scheduled this thing for the worst possible time of the month.

In both senses.

''Kinda ruin the point of going to some fancy restaurant, wouldn't it?'' He pointed out.

She shrugged and got to her feet, now three inches taller than usual.

''And I would care why?''

''You're just as nervous about this as I am. You're not foolin' me.''

Hermione snarled at him and Dean rolled his eyes.

''Yeah, real scary wolf chick.''

If you ignored the growling, Hermione was a hell of a lot less...feral than she had been when she'd come home from the War. She was better with strangers now, which was good because she helped Dean man the phones for other hunters when she wasn't working. Most days were good days, although if you put her in a crowd, she became fuckin' monosyllabic, which was usually fine but almost made them miss Teddy's graduation ceremony. Dean was used to sleeping with the lights on and both of them have nightmares anyway, so that's not a problem. Their house (and Sam's, and Teddy's and Kevin's) are warded against Hell, Heaven and every friggen' thing that walked the Earth. When it was bad though...She could wake up and not recognise Dean. Most times she took off immediately and didn't come home for a few days. Sometimes something would set off her PTSD, a car backfiring, Angel appearing suddenly and she freak out. It was okay though. They dealt with it.

''It ain't every day Sammy proposes.'' He pointed out, trying to cheer her up.

She smiled faintly.

''True.''

''Think she'll say yes?'' Dean added, actually curious.

''Merlin knows.'' Hermione reached up and did up his top button again. ''There, deceptively smart for a hunter.''

Dean grinned at her and she smiled back.

''She's good though, right? Not...'' He trailed off.

''A demon, or a monster or even slightly evil.'' Hermione sighed. ''We checked. Thoroughly.''

Dean rolled his eyes. When his brother had found out about their investigations he'd accused them of being paranoid, which Dean thought was a bit overboard. In their defence, it had looked kinda suspicious.

That Sam had actually found a girl who wasn't a demon, wasn't married and wasn't a werewolf was freakin' amazing. That he'd found a girl who didn't mind him hunting was bizarre. That he found one who actually got on with Hermione...that was a miracle. And yeah, Dean's not a moron. He knows his witch is an acquired taste.

* * *

''We're meeting the boys there, aren't we?'' Hermione asked in the car, as she tapped out something on her phone with her left hand. Dean was holding her right as he drove. He ran his thumb over the skin feeling for the scar he knew was there but couldn't see.

''Yeah. They'd better not be late today.'' He grumbled.

''They're at Uni.'' Hermione murmured, ''They're allowed to forget themselves.''

By the time the heat was finally off the Prophet, Teddy had managed to graduate high school. Top of his class too, Dean had proudly displayed his certificate in their living room. After he got Hermione to fireproof it.

Then it was just safer and easier on everyone to send the boys to Kansas U together, although the chances of Teddy not following Kevin wherever he went were extremely unlikely. Mrs Tran wasn't exactly thrilled with the school's pedigree but as long as her son beat everyone else, she was happy. And at least she was paying for Kevin. Teddy's school fees kept making the Winchesters wince, but between the three of them they'd get that kid through school if it killed them. Kevin was doing something complicated that involved maths Dean didn't understand and avoiding the language students at all costs. He'd had enough translating for one lifetime. Teddy was looking at pre-med. Or he was at the moment. It had been science last month. Dean kept waking up at night to worry about it.

It was a weird experience for Dean. The last person he'd had to worry about academically had been Sam and the chances of Sammy dropping out had been Nil. Before Jess died anyway.

''You gonna turn that phone off?'' Dean asked, glancing into the passenger seat.

Hermione sighed and powered down the phone.

''I'm not on call.'' She murmured.

''Promise?''

She chuckled.

''Yes, Dean. I promise. I'm not going to run away tonight.''

Dean smirked.

''I knew you ran away from Garth's party.''

Hermione scowled.

''I was called in. It was a complete coincidence.''

''You really expect me to believe that you had a patient who couldn't stop vomiting feathers?'' Dean teased.

Hermione was working as a Healer at the local wizarding hospital. She worked in Intensive Care which suited her fine as most of her patients were unconscious. The hospital was pretty good too, small enough that they could be discrete about Hermione's identity, letting her work under a fake name. They were surprisingly protective of her too. But that might just have been because she was the smartest witch there and not because she saved the world.

''Yes!'' Hermione cried. Dean grinned at her.

''And this had got nothing to do with you not liking Garth?''

''He keeps trying to hug me!'' Hermione scowled, slouching in her seat. ''It's unsettling.''

Dean grunted. He'd had to have a word with Garth about that.

''But tonight is important. So I'm not leaving.''

Dean squeezed her hand.

''Hey, thanks.''

She smiled.

''You're welcome.''

Dean parked the Impala at the curb behind Sam's shitty Prius.

He wrapped an arm around Hermione once they got out of the car, heading towards the restaurant.

''C'mon. Lets go welcome this girl to the family.''

''If we must.'' Hermione complained, but shifted slightly closer to Dean anyway, smiling.

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **So this isn't actually the epilogue I was intending to publish. There's another one which is set further into the future and fits the same storyline. If there's a request for it, I'll publish it too. It goes into what happened with the wizards more.**_

 ** _Otherwise, this is it._**

 ** _Thank you for sticking with it and I hope you liked it._**

 ** _Hood._**


	8. Chapter 8

**Extract from ''The Wolf Queen''**

It has widely been discussed, both in my other books and amongst scholars, that the role of the Chosen One in the Second Wizarding War was a minimal one. When the Chosen One fell in 1997 it became clear that the true power behind the resistance lay with one of his most trusted commanders.

Hermione Granger is noted as being a highly accomplished witch and strategist, as well as being hailed as one of the saviours of the free world. Much of her young life was spent fighting against the Dark; either on the run from Death Eaters, or using gorilla tactics to strike back at them. She vanished completely in the latter years of the war, a dead army behind her, leaving rumour as the only guide to her whereabouts.

Very little is known about her activities in these years. Piecemeal reports indicate that Granger fled to the Americas, continually on the run, making little to no impact upon people as she travelled.

The most infamous documented recording of her presence is also the latest.

In 2013 eyewitness accounts place Granger leading the charge with fellow leader of the Light, Neville Longbottom, against Lord Voldemort's forces. While Longbottom is known to have wielded the sword of Gryffindor against the snake Nagini - thus removing the last defence of the Dark Lord – It was Hermione Granger who faced You-Know-Who in his final duel.

It is here that reports differ.

Some accounts tell us that Granger was mortally wounded in her fight and, although she emerged victorious, was left to die alone not long afterwards.

Others suggest that with his dying breath the Dark Lord banished her, cursing her to never be found.

More fantastical accounts suggest she was transfigured, dismembered or obliviated. That in killing the Dark Lord she lost her own magic and fled a muggle.

All of these accounts share a common theme, the disappearance or death of the Wolf Queen.

And this is, to some extent, true.

Hermione Granger vanished not long after the duel and hasn't been seen publically since.

There is one account I am compelled to believe more than others. Lord Longbottom, who spends the majority of his time breeding orchids in Kent, deigned to speak with me in a rare, and short, interview. Now well into his fifties, Lord Longbottom looked unusually old for his age and his hands shook as he poured out tea for us both.

NL: '' _Hermione...I saw her fighting against Voldemort but I was too busy keeping Death Eaters off her back to really pay attention. She killed him, everyone knows that.''_ He sighed, looking tired. '' _Afterwards we destroyed the lodestone, dropping the wards around Britain. And of course foreign Aurors flooded in almost immediately. They'd been trying to help for years. And...I got caught up in explaining who I was and what had happened and when I turned for her side of the story...she wasn't there. She was standing at the back of the hall near a door and she just looked at me and then at the Aurors. I could see...That was the night of the meteor shower...I remember her staring at the sky in horror before we attacked. I've always wondered what had bothered her about those meteors. Anyway, she just looked at me and smiled and...I knew right then she wasn't coming back. She waved at me and she was gone.''_

 **HD: And you've not heard from her since?**

NL: _''She sends me a Christmas card occasionally. Letting me know she's still alive. I don't...I don't blame her for staying away. The reminders...''_

It seems tragic that the woman to whom we owe so much receives so little of the adulation she is due. However perhaps that is for the best. Hermione Granger knew her country at its darkest and she fought to save it. Because of her Newbloods the world over receive the respect and safety they deserve. Because of her Britain is a safe place to live and magic is once again flourishing.

Yes, it is true that we have lost much of our culture and traditions, true that many in Europe call us a ''New Land''. But our history is just that, history. There are too few who remember the First Wizarding War and entire generation is missing from our streets and homes. Newbloods outnumber Purebloods by ten to one. Britain has changed for the better and our grand architect is not here to see it.

However I have it on the best authority that she is not only still alive, but happy and healthy.

And for that we must be thankful.

HD

* * *

 _Unpublished letter sent to the Author's father. Published after the author's death in 2110._

I decided to follow Hermione Granger's trail through America. She was reported to have docked in New York and then made her way steadily across the country. Her locations can only be guessed at due to was remaining records there are from Death Eaters perusing her. For the most part it was a fruitless journey, but I occasionally found trace of her presence. The symbol of the Hollows etched into the back of a billboard in Atlanta, an old yellowing poster bearing the legend '' _Long live the Wolf Queen_ '', an old hearth-magic bracelet made of red and gold ribbons and sealed with a lion charm. However it never occurred to me that while I was searching for signs of her, she might have been looking for me.

I had given up hope of picking up the trail for a final time, the last known trace of Hermione had been twenty miles ago. Instead I had spread my maps and notes out across the table of a café in a state in southern America. I was halfway through annotating my notebook when three people slid onto the bench across from me.

Two of them were men, large and intimidating, aged somewhere in their fifties. They stared at me with cold, hard eyes and folded arms.

The woman was instantly recognisable. Like any student of the Emrys Academy I grew up in the shadow of the Wolf Queen's statue. The Memorial Courtyard was one of the first sight's I remember seeing when I arrived at the new wizarding school. Of the six statues, the Queen's has always been my favourite for obvious reasons.

She looked different now, older with grey in her hair and wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. She was battle scarred in a way I hadn't expected but then the history books have always played down the Second War and I couldn't help but wonder how many fights this woman had been in. How many she'd won. How many she'd lost.

She seemed smaller than I'd expected too. That could have been due to the large men flanking her or to a twisted perspective from spending my childhood gazing up at an eight foot bronze statue.

Despite all of this, despite the fact that she was dressed like someone's aunt in a woollen jumper, with hair braided back, despite the fact she was smaller and older...Hermione Granger still had presence. Of a powerful magical being...of an incredibly dangerous woman.

''Apparently,'' She said slowly, ''You've been looking for me.''

I shook myself out of my shock and nodded.

''What for?''

I realise now that my actions must have seemed very suspicious to her. I'd made no attempt to keep my enquiries quiet and it hadn't occurred to me that someone searching for a war hero might be extremely unwelcome.

''Eek.'' I managed. I won't lie, I was very intimidated. ''You're The Queen.''

She blinked at me.

''Glory, are people still calling me that?'' She breathed, looking surprised.

I nodded.

''Wonderful.'' She rolled her eyes and leaned forward slightly. ''What did you want?''

''Nothing! It's just...I'm a historian. And I wasn't _looking_ for you. I mean, I was...I'd hoped but...no one's heard from you in twenty years. I was just following the wanted posters and...''

''Breath.'' She ordered and I sucked in a breath.

''What does a historian want with a trail that went cold twenty years ago?'' The larger man asked, brushing his hair away from his face.

''Um...for my book?'' I flushed, feeling horrible embarrassed. I'm certain this never happened to Merlin's historians. ''I'm...er...writing your biography?''

Her brown eyes narrowed at me.

''For the love of Merlin, why?'' She snapped.

''Because you're an important historical figure!'' I cried, ''And because I already wrote the other ones.''

There was a horrible moment of silence in which I was stared at by three different people.

''Explain.'' She ordered darkly. The shorter of the two men reached out and caught her hand, twining their fingers together.

''Well...'' I swallowed. ''I wrote about the Chosen One first because that one was the...'' I winced. ''The shortest. And then I did the King and then Lord Longbottom, although he wasn't very happy about that and then I wrote about the rest of the court, the Moon and the Fox. And after I'd written those, and a generalised history of the Second Wizarding War...'' My voice faltered slightly. ''I started to write about you.''

The shorter man frowned.

''Why'd you leave her till last?''

''Writing about the Queen was always going to be difficult,'' I explained awkwardly. ''But I wanted to make sure I...'' I blushed. ''Well, I wanted to make sure hers was the best written. I didn't want to write something she'd be ashamed of.''

They stared at me across the table, the Queen and the shorter man frowning, whilst the taller man just looked thoughtful. Eventually Hermione sighed.

''What's your name?'' She asked.

''Mia.''

She nodded.

''These are Sam and Dean. They're friends of mine.'' Hermione rubbed at her eyes. ''You said you've spoken to Neville?''

''Neville? Oh, Lord Longbottom.'' I realised. ''Yes, he let me interview him for his book. As he's the only primary source of data left, I wanted to be as accurate as possible. He...'' I paused, thinking back to the tired man I'd met a year ago. ''He's doing well.''I offered helplessly.

''That's worth knowing. I never thought he'd take on Augusta's title though.'' She added thoughtfully. ''He always thought it was a bit '' _puritanical pureblood_ '', the house nonsense.''

''He didn't really have much choice, actually.'' I pointed out. ''I mean, when the borders fell, Lord Longbottom was one of the only purebloods left in the country who wasn't executed.''

''Why was 'Mione's book so important to you?'' The taller man, Sam, interrupted.

''Ah...'' And that's the crux of the matter isn't it? You've always wondered why I left the Queen's till last, but she was so important to you, to everyone. I wanted to do her proud. ''It's...You're very important to me.'' I paused to see if this would be enough and Sam gestured for me to go on. ''She's my hero!''

Hermione laughed bitterly at me.

''Mia,'' She sighed, grinning almost madly. ''I'm not a hero. I'm just a tired, washed-out old soldier.''

''Yes, you are!'' I insisted. ''I wouldn't even be alive if it wasn't for you.''

''A lot of people worked to destroy the Registry...''

''Not that.'' I blurted, interrupting her. ''Well, I mean, yes. I'm a Newblood, but other than that. My father named me for you because you saved his life!''

''Whoah.'' Dean said. ''I thought you said your name was Mia?''

''It is.'' I promised. ''It's a nickname.'' I held out my hand. ''Hermione Harriet Dursley. Pleased to meet you.''

Hermione went pale so fast I worried she might faint. She slapped lightly at Dean until he stood to let her off the bench and then she stormed out of the cafe. I let my hand drop to the table.

''I'm...I'm sorry.'' I managed, feeling awful. ''Dad always said they were friends, I just thought...''

Sam gave me an apologetic grimace.

''It's not you, kid. Honest. 'Mione...She does her best to forget the stuff she went through. I guess you must have reminded her of something.''

''She'll be back.'' Dean added.

They spent the next few minutes ignoring me whilst they looked through my notes. I took the time to gather my wits. I'd actually found Hermione Granger. I found her and she was still alive. Even you thought she was dead until I met with Lord Longbottom and you...You're my dad. You're supposed to know everything.

Occasionally Sam or Dean would ask me to clarify a piece of my research until eventually Hermione Granger stormed back into to the diner and scowled at me.

''You're Dudley's daughter.'' She demanded. ''Dudley Dursley's child?''

I swallowed.

''His eldest, yes. Dad...he used to tell me stories about you.''

She sat down on the end of the bench and relaxed her scowl into a frown.

''I didn't even know he was alive.'' She breathed, looking dazed. ''I thought they caught up to him in Europe.''

''Wait,'' Dean broke in. ''How do you two know each other?''

''Her father was under my protection during the war.'' Hermione said quietly. ''I was too late to save her grandparents but I managed to get Dudley free. He spent years moving from safe house to safe house. He used to cook for us and train people how to blend into normal society. Eventually it got too dangerous to have a muggle, particularly _that_ muggle, around. Not long after I lost Ted, there was a raid on our safe house. I managed to get him to Denmark and keep him safe.''

''Dad says it was less of a raid and more of a massacre.'' I pointed out.

''Like I said,'' She insisted sharply. ''I got _Dudley_ to safety.''

''What did you mean, '' _that muggle_ ''?'' Sam asked.

''Dudley Dursley was...is Harry's cousin. She's...'' Hermione squinted, ''his first cousin, once removed.''

''Shit.'' Dean breathed.

''I can't believe he's still alive.'' She added, staring at me. ''You've got your great-aunt's eyes, you know.''

''That's what they tell me.'' I agreed awkwardly.

''I just...How is he?'' She asked eventually.

''He's good. He went back to the UK after the border fell, set up his own shop. Sells cakes. Um...he met Mum...they got divorced a few years ago but it was pretty amicable. My brother and I are used to it. My brother's name is Vernon, but people call him Derek. I...I don't know what to tell you,'' I admitted. ''It's fairly normal. A bit boring to be honest.''

Hermione smiled at me and it looked like the first genuine expression I'd seen from her.

''Tell me everything.'' She asked eagerly.

* * *

Hermione Granger invited me to stay at her home for several days, before I was due to return to England. She and Dean lived in a small farmhouse that shared a large area of land with a much larger house that was occupied by Sam's family.

Sam introduced me to his wife, an American witch by the name of Isadora who insisted on being called Izzy. Apparently they met when Sam was in hospital. Izzy was his Healer and it was love at first sight. They have two daughters who I didn't meet, as they attend the Salem Witches Academy as first and third years.

Dean and Hermione, who I spent the majority of my time with, were nice company. Hermione has a very dark sense of humour that can take some getting used to, whereas Dean is fairly easy going. They bicker over things constantly, like the best way serve pie or what to have for dinner, but its not malicious. Whether they are together or simply very good friends...I couldn't say. Partially because I am too afraid of Hermione Granger to spread rumours about her love life and partially because I have no idea either way. But they are very close and they suit each other well.

I also met Hermione's son, a cheerful man with bright blue hair and a sunny disposition. He remembered you, apparently you met him in one of the safe houses, although you've never mentioned a Teddy Lupin to me. He was nice and was usually dragging Kevin after him. The nature of that relationship I couldn't guess at either, but that's most because Kevin appears to be continually confused by Teddy's presence. They are Librarians, but they wouldn't tell me where. Apparently it's ''Top Secret''...whatever that's supposed to mean.

I know, growing up, you glossed over the war in your stories and maybe its just as well that you did. Growing up the Chosen One's cousin was hard enough, I didn't need to know the horrific details.

Now though, looking at this woman who has clearly given everything, I find myself wondering what her true part in it all was.

The mantelpiece in Dean and Hermione's house is cluttered with pictures, some of which are very old. There are several of Cousin Harry and even a few of Great Aunt Lily. But interspersed with the pictures of the dead...and they are _all_ dead, I looked them up in the history books. Interspersed with those there are newer pictures. One of Sam's wedding day. Pictures of Mary and Ellen, Sam's daughters. Pictures of Dean and Hermione. Pictures of several people who are probably all Teddy because they're usually accompanied by an awkward looking Kevin. They're happy pictures.

I know, when I set out on this journey, that you warned me not to get my hopes up. I thought that that was because you thought I wouldn't find her. Now I think it's because you thought I would and you were worried about what I'd find. Hermione has told me bits and pieces about the war and I think the soldier you knew must have been a fearsome woman indeed. I can still see her occasionally. Sharp edges that aren't quite hidden behind jumpers and snark.

But whatever she is now, whether or not that soldier is still there, Hermione Granger is happy.

Yes, she is secluded from the world, but she has her son, her nieces, Sam and Izzy, and of course, she has Dean. She laughs easily when there is something to laugh about and she complains that Dean is allergic to cats but cuddles their dog anyway. She and Dean take long walks around their land, gossiping to anyone who'll listen about whatever Teddy has been up to recently and...

...Dad, I think it's a good thing she never came back. Britain is better, history tells me that much. I didn't live through the war, I don't remember the reconstruction but I realise that all my professors were European, because there was no one British left to teach. I realise that Emrys Academy was founded in Wales so that the ruins of Hogwarts could be buried by the land because the misery that permeates that castle is no place for children. And I realise that the graveyard, the one you go to every year...I realise that it is filled with headstones for bodies that aren't there. Filled with empty graves because there is nothing left of her friends, her family, her school mates, her teachers. I realise all that and...I'd give anything for her not to.

She deserves so much more than she has but at the same time, Dean, her new family...I think that is all anyone could need in the world.


End file.
